Little Boy Lost
by ELSchaaf
Summary: Starting from the summer between S1 and S2, this fic is completely Logan's POV, canon-compliant, and will go right through to the end of S2. If you ever wanted to know what was going through Logan's head, what made him do the things he did, and how he survived everything that was happening to him and around him, this is the fic for you.
1. Chapter 1

Blurred images danced in front of his eyes as he squinted, blinking them open. Bruised, battered, and aching, he hurt all over. _'Where the hell am I? What happened? Did I get into shit with my dad again?'_ He didn't think so. Usually he'd remember those things. He blinked a few times and tried to focus.

"The bikers are gone now," he heard from above him. The words broke through Logan's haze but he found himself more confused than ever. _'Bikers?'_

"Are you ok? Just lay there. I called an ambulance."

As his mind cleared, he saw a man standing over him. _'A delivery truck driver?'_ Logan stared up at him with a blank expression, uncomprehending. He tried to process everything around him, but failed.

"Why don't you do me a favor and drop that knife."

Panicked, Logan's eyes darted around, taking in the scene. The dark, starless sky surrounded him. Beside him, a broken bottle of Jack lay empty and desolate. He'd awoken in the middle of the street, somewhere familiar. The Coronado Bridge. _'Shit.'_

After pushing himself to a partial sitting position, he promptly doubled over. Sharp, stabbing pain shot through his chest from several broken ribs. A debilitating nausea followed, brought on by his damaged and aching abdomen. His face had swelled. It felt like a balloon. The metallic bittersweetness of blood filled his mouth as he ran his tongue along his broken lip.

At the sight of a brutally stabbed PCHer not two feet away from him, Logan scrambled back, trying to gain some distance. His insides recoiled again, gurgling and churning at what he'd seen. He stumbled to the bridge railing and violently began to dry heave. With a dizziness that brought wave after wave of queasiness, he found himself spitting out blood, saliva, and bile into the rushing water below.

Logan pulled himself together and pushed away from the railing. He tried to move toward the delivery man, intending to ask him what he'd seen. He couldn't catch his balance, though, and reached blindly for something to steady him.

"Hey! Hey, easy now, son." The delivery man sounded alarmed.

The man's earlier words hadn't even registered with Logan at first. When they did, his eyes widened in horror. He released the knife from his grasp as if he'd been burned. The delivery driver moved back toward his truck and held up his hands in surrender before climbing in and taking off. Logan's survival instincts kicked in.

Knowing he needed to get away before the sheriff and his deputies arrived, he impulsively picked up the knife and hurled it as far over the rail as he could. Adrenaline, fear, and hostility coursed through his veins as he peered over the side of the bridge. He listened in an attempt to hear it hit the water, his jaw and his fists clenched tightly. _'It better fucking stay gone like my mom's body.'_

Briefly, he wondered what his mother's body sounded like when it hit the water. He didn't speculate for too long, though. The memory, the abandonment, they were still too painful. And he really couldn't afford the distraction.

Pushing away from the rail with grim determination, he limped back toward the still-open door of his truck. Teeth clenched tight, he held his breath and protectively clutched his aching side. _'With my luck, the damn knife will come floating back like a fucking boomerang.'_

The door slammed shut before the tires squealed as he hit the gas with a single-minded dedication. Just a short time before, he'd been standing on the bridge's rail, pondering his losses and contemplating the merits of jumping versus the cost of staying alive. Now, he just wanted to survive.

He drove without knowing where to go. The radio babbled on without the words making any sense, but he needed the noise in order to clear his head. _'What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of this? I can't go to Veronica. Not this time. Or...can I?'_ Once upon a time he might have gone to find Duncan and Mr. Kane. But not now. Not since Lilly's death.

The announcer's voice came on and interrupted his thoughts by speaking the name of his father.

"Breaking news. Abel Koontz is being released from jail at this very moment while none other than A-list movie star, Aaron Echolls, is arrested for the murder of Lilly Kane."

Instantly, Logan's senses were on high alert. _'What the fuck?!'_ He spotted a nearby alley, slammed on his brakes, and backed into the shadows to listen to what the anchor had to say.

"Very little is known at this point. However, as always, we will keep you informed up to the minute."

A feeling of dread and ugly anticipation filled the pit of Logan's already aching gut. It didn't surprise him that his father had just been declared a murderer. _'But why?'_ A barrage of possibilities flooded his consciousness but he forced them to an abrupt halt. _'I can't do this right now. Not if I want to survive.'_ Thankfully, the radio interrupted his thoughts.

"What we know right now is that Keith Mars, private investigator and former sheriff, along with his 17-year-old daughter were taken to Neptune Memorial Hospital at approximately the same time that Aaron Echolls was initially detained for questioning relating to new evidence that he had engaged in an inappropriate relationship with the only daughter of billionaire software mogul Jake Kane. Within the last fifteen minutes, charges of murder, assault, attempted murder, and arson have been filed by the district attorney with the victims listed as Lilly Kane, Keith Mars and his daughter."

Dry, shallow breathing made Logan's mouth dry. His dad had killed Lilly, not only that but he tried to hurt Veronica and her dad. _'Please be ok. Please be ok. Please be ok.'_

"We are told that Keith Mars is still listed in critical condition while his daughter was treated and released. She was, however, unavailable for comment."

Logan felt sick. Without even trying, everything suddenly clicked into place. In his gut, he knew the truth of his father's guilt. He'd lived too long with the horrors that Aaron frequently inflicted on him to believe otherwise. But the reason...'_inappropriate relationship'._..no, he couldn't think about that right now. Not with everything else he'd just been through, everything he'd just found out.

Logan threw the truck into drive and stepped on the gas. He knew now without a doubt where he had to head. He'd lost his mother. His father was a murderer. His best friend was sure to hate him. There was only one person left who would understand and the radio had practically announced her location. He was going to see Veronica.


	2. Chapter 2

The light was so dim in the apartment doorway that somewhere in the recesses of Logan's scattered and racing mind, he wondered if the cheap bastards who owned the place were just trying to save money.

He rapped his knuckles on the door, then stepped back to lean against the railing for support. Fear and nausea ripped at his gut. No answer. He knocked again. She had to be there. She just had to.

While he waited, he turned away, suddenly anxious and worried that maybe she'd gone somewhere else. With her friend, Wallace, perhaps, or maybe she'd stayed with her dad at the hospital. His knuckles turned white as his bloody and abraded hands gripped the white rail in an effort to hold onto his sanity.

By the time the door finally opened, he faced the quaint courtyard with its thorny rose bushes, flowering vines, and obligatory but utterly pathetic pool. Before he turned around, he heard her soft words, "I was hoping it would be you," and they gave him a sharp burst of hope but also made him fear what she'd think when she saw him.

He looked toward the ground, fighting hard to gather his courage. His hesitation must have concerned her because she called to him then, and his very name sounded like a question.

"Logan?"

The shadows kept him hidden for a moment. He turned towards her slowly, painfully, and the eerie light by the door illuminated him with all his cuts and bruises. He heard her gasp at the sight and for some reason that caused uncertainty and doubt to twist his insides. Had he done the right thing in coming here? It was too late to back out now.

With a deceptively cool and casual, "Hey, Veronica," he tried to play off his uncertainty, but his inability to continue to keep it together made the attempt immediately moot. His eyes betrayed his panic, his pain.

A stabbing pain suddenly hit him. He grimaced and reached for his side, stumbling forward, forcing her to catch him.

"Logan! What happened?!"

She helped him inside and settled him on the center cushion of the couch before she turned on the light and left the room for a few minutes. When she came back and sat down beside him, he subconsciously leaned closer.

"Come here," she commanded and he lifted his head while she moved to settle him across her lap.

_'Awkward but familiar and comforting,'_ he thought. It brought back fuzzy memories of when she took care of him after every break up with Lilly. Times he partied too hard, got drunk out of his mind, and regaled her with the latest reasons for his self-loathing. _'Lilly. Did she really…? No...not with my dad...'_

A cool, wet washcloth appeared out of nowhere. She started using it to clean the blood and dirt from his face while her soothing fingers combed their way through his hair. 'She must have gotten the cloth while she was out of the room. Not that it matters.'

"They caught me alone on the bridge," he began to explain.

"Who's they?" she interrupted.

Before answering, he took a moment to gather his thoughts and try to piece things together. "Uhh...Weevil...the PCHers." He closed his eyes and started to picture the last few things he could remember.

"What were you doing there?" Veronica asked incredulously.

"Havin' a drink," he replied with as much of his usual snark as he could muster. Then he opened his eyes and looked up at her with a brutally intense stare. She couldn't seem to look away, even when his next words were unrelentingly honest. "What do you think, Veronica? You'd broken up with me. You accused me of killing Lilly."

His eyes closed again and the images continued, running like some sick movie inside his head.

"You're lucky you're alive," Veronica said.

"That's one way of looking at it," he said with a slight nod, taking as deep of a breath as he dared.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Veronica asked with concern.

Instead of answering her, he recounted the details of what he'd seen when he woke up on the bridge.

"Oh my god, Logan!"

"No, but I didn't stab him, Veronica." He shook his head, his puppy dog eyes pleading with her not to doubt him.

She whispered firmly, "I believe you." His eyes met hers and he knew a miracle had just happened.

The knot in his chest began to unravel once he saw the resolve in her eyes. She would never treat him like Lilly had. She wouldn't betray him and leave him alone. Not now.

"I threw the knife in the water and got in my car and drove."

His own words were surreal to him as was the situation. A lump formed in his throat as he shook his head and raised his eyebrows in disbelief. He turned away from her for a moment when he felt a salty liquid sting that he needed to blink away.

"Logan? There's something you need to know about your dad," Veronica said softly, changing the subject.

"Aaron Echolls, charged with murder?" The tears were harder to keep away now. Agonizing emotional distress joined the physical pain that filled his voice. "It's all over the radio."

As soon as the words were out, he lost the loose grasp on his control that he'd struggled so hard to maintain. His eyes welled with tears and sobs wracked his body, tightening his chest, effectively cutting off his air supply. The sharp, burning sensation every time he tried to take a breath let him know that he had, at the very least, several broken ribs.

_'It's true. It has to be. Lilly was fucking my dad. And now she's dead. Veronica could have been next.'_

A soft, "Ow," emitted pitifully from his lips.

Veronica's fingers brushed through his hair again and he took comfort in the gesture.

A knock sounded at the door. Unsurprising. It had only been a matter of time.

Logan adjusted himself to huddle alone on the couch while Veronica rose and crossed the room to answer it.

He watched as she peeked her head out the door, checking the identity of their guest before opening the door a little wider but not yet wide enough for the visitor to get past. Over her shoulder, bathed in the early morning light, stood a familiar-looking deputy.

Wracking his brain, trying to remember, it took a few moments for it to hit him. The '80's dance. Through a blurred memory, he thought he recalled Veronica along with the deputy trying to take his keys. He'd been thoroughly wasted. That had been right after Veronica helped him find out that his mother really had jumped to her death.

Ironically, the man at the door mumbled the same words that Logan had uttered on his arrival.

"Hey, Veronica."

She didn't respond so he continued. "I'm looking for Logan Echolls. I saw his SUV parked out front. I know he's here. This'll be better for everyone."

Logan knew Veronica couldn't say anything that would help. _'No point delaying the inevitable.'_

Veronica seemed to agree and soon the door swung on its hinge and she pivoted to let the deputy past.

Sprawled back out on the couch, Logan's head rested on the other arm now so that he could pay attention to the conversation at the door. His eyes were sharp and alert, his face unreadable as he studied the deputy who gave Veronica a deeply regretful look.

When the man's eyes took in Logan's miserable form on the sofa in the living room, his expression changed to something that combined pity, incredulity, and sadness. All of which were exclusively aimed at Veronica.

Moving into the room, the deputy recited Logan's rights.


	3. Chapter 3

The sheriff's department buzzed with activity while he sat with his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands pondering the disastrous pile of shit that his life had become. He ran his hands through his hair, closed his eyes, and blew out a breath. _'What the fuck am I supposed to do now?'_

Logan forced himself to remain calm, steady, as neutral and detached as possible. It was all an act anyway, right? He was unshakeable. Completely impervious. Except that he wasn't.

While he waited for the charges to be filed and his bond to be set, he took an inventory of his life and almost as soon as he began, he wished he hadn't. His mother was dead. She had killed herself. His father was in jail for murder which made it look like Logan was a chip off the old block. Murder. _'First Lilly, now this?'_

Lilly Kane. His first girlfriend. The love of his life that he'd never been able to hold onto. Logan knew she had cheated on him. Knew it had happened on more than one occasion. He'd learned about Weevil and several of the others but he'd never thought, never suspected, that she would have, could have so utterly betrayed him with the father he despised.

For a moment, he felt the metaphorical knife twist in his back. Indescribable rage and pain bubbled up inside of him. He closed his eyes, letting every real and imagined scenario play out. Unbidden, images of Lilly flashed across his mind. Her sly smile. Her _'fuck it all'_ attitude. Her endless stores of energy. He opened his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. All the intense emotions seeped out of him. She was gone. There was nothing left to feel but loss.

Loss of his mother. Loss of his father. Loss of Lilly, Duncan, the Kanes...the only real family he'd ever known. _'That's not true. I'm forgetting Veronica.'_ The only semblance of family that he had left. He released a short and bitter laugh.

Veronica Mars. Friend. Nemesis. Ally. Girlfriend. And that had all been within the last week. Sometimes he didn't know what to think of her. She amused him to no end. Challenged the hell out of him. Surprised him like no other. _'Betrayed me?'_ Not so much. He had thought so. More than once. But no. She just had an incredibly well-developed sense of justice. A talent for revenge. And a tendency to jump to conclusions.

_'How the hell did I fall for her?'_ That question made him pause for a moment in amazement._ 'I have no idea.'_ He let his eyes wander upward, leaned back against the bench, and gave a self-deprecating laugh as he tried to sort through it all in his mind.

There existed this insane form of fucked up magnetism between them, he mused. No matter what happened around them, they were always acutely aware of each other. Oh, she'd deny it for sure, but it would be useless. Every time their eyes met across a room, he knew. They could never, ever be indifferent to each other.

They pushed and they pulled in their own little war. Watching. Waiting. Circling. Baiting. Both of them stubborn. Neither of them moving. Until an outside force caused one of them to flip. Then they were sucked together with a monumental force. Almost like a tractor beam. And he knew that, for better or worse, resistance was futile.

Veronica. Always volatile. Ever the bright point in his otherwise miserable existence. Yet they had turned on each other. He had ostracized her, made her a pariah. She had followed him, investigated him, thought him capable of murder. Maybe he was. Who knew? _'It's sure as hell in my genes.'_

At least, he thought, Veronica believed him this time. She had said so herself. His innocence wasn't in question when it came to the murder of the biker named Felix.

Felix Toombs. The cocky bastard. _'Dead cocky bastard,'_ he corrected himself. Logan tried to remember who else had been on that bridge. It had been Weevil and Felix and...who else? All the other bikers blurred together. Hell, for all he knew, they didn't have names.

_'But how the hell did the son-of-a-bitch end up dead?'_ Logan couldn't help but ask himself. If he didn't do it and the delivery driver didn't do it, then who did? He'd have to think on it, for sure. Giving an alternative theory may be his only defense. _'Besides the fact that the numbers were something like six to one,'_ he thought wryly.

Logan took a deep breath and deliberately shifted his line of thinking. His head ached. Waiting to be questioned took forever. Waiting for his lawyer. Waiting to make bail. Waiting, waiting, waiting. _'Where's Veronica? What's she doing right now? Is she really gonna help?'_ He scowled and reprimanded himself. She wasn't his savior. She wasn't a super hero. It wasn't her job to swoop in and make everything better.

But he'd seen the look on her face when the deputy had cuffed him and led him away. Her blue-eyed gaze had been steely, resolved, edged with righteous anger. It had been incredibly hot. And in spite of the circumstance, he'd been seriously turned on.

After everything that had happened that night, something had shifted. Something had changed. She would fight for him. She would stand by his side. Somehow, she would help him wade through this fucked up mess. She would find a way. He knew it.

Logan's thoughts were interrupted as Lamb approached him with a cocky swagger and a shit-eating grin. "Looks like we've got two murderers in the Echolls family."

Gritting his teeth, Logan refused to respond which seemed to make Lamb push even harder. "In fact, in case you hadn't heard, it would seem you weren't experienced enough for your girlfriend. I've got tapes in my evidence room of the illustrious Lilly Kane getting it on with your dad."

Bile rose in Logan's throat at his worst nightmare being confirmed. He'd known it, accepted it, and dreaded finding out the details but never had he dreamed he'd hear about it like this.

A dark-haired man in a cheap-ass suit appeared and gave Lamb a hard and pointed look while Logan worked to school his features. "I don't believe you're supposed to be speaking to my client without him having representation, Sheriff."

Logan stared at the man with a blank expression while Lamb made his excuses and scurried off. _ 'Thank god.'_

"Good morning," came the deep, melodic, sing-songy voice that now directed itself straight at Logan. "I'm Cliff MacCormack, your friendly neighborhood if-you-can't-afford-a-lawyer lawyer. At your service."

From behind the man came another voice. A familiar one, not to mention playful and a tiny bit reprimanding. "Cliffy, I told you not to start without me."

"Sorry, V, just walked in," the attorney said.

The three of them entered one of the interrogation rooms. Cliff sat on the corner of the small table. Veronica sat at Logan's right side.

"So tell me how all this came to pass," Cliff started.

Logan looked at Veronica and Veronica looked at Logan. Their eyes met and he spoke directly to her. "It's like I said before. I was on the bridge. The bikers showed up. They were begging for a fight. Weevil came towards me so I kicked him in the face. The others mobbed me, took me down, and I passed out. Next thing I remember is waking up on the bridge, beat all to hell, with a knife in my hand."

"Was there anyone else there?" Cliff asked. He had a notebook out but he hadn't written anything down.

"Yeah, no, I don't know. I think so. I don't really remember. Everything's fuzzy." Logan didn't want to say anything about the delivery driver, whom he considered a loose cannon. What did he see? What would he say? In Logan's mind, the guy would likely condemn him rather than defend him. _'Better to say nothing at all.'_

Veronica stayed silently by his side. When he looked away from her, she reached over and took his hand. His eyes rested on the tiny warm spot pressed against his skin. He found himself unreasonably grateful for even such minimal contact from her.

Feeling completely lost, he lifted his eyes to her compassionate baby blues. He gave her a weak little half-smile and said the only thing he could. "Thanks."

She smiled back softly and gave his hand a squeeze. "Don't mention it."

"Ok, so here's what I suggest," Cliff began, "Put daddy's money to use. Get some high-priced lawyers who are good at pleading self-defense. The charges have been filed. Your bail has been posted. You have six weeks to figure this out before the preliminary hearing." He took a break and looked long and hard between Logan and Veronica. "All right, you two crazy kids. That's enough for tonight. Go on. Get out of here."

Veronica rose and gave Cliff a loose hug and a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Cliffy. You're the best."


	4. Chapter 4

Six weeks. The calm before the storm. The preliminary hearing had put everything else on hold. Everything except Logan and Veronica. The two of them were spending more time together than ever. And for Logan, it brought pure unadulterated bliss.

He thought of Trina being home until his emancipation could be finalized, of his dad in jail, of Mr. Mars in the hospital, and then with violent force he shoved it all from his mind. Instead, he focused on Veronica. The one high point in his otherwise abysmal existence. The only thing that got him through: his relationship with Veronica.

The first two weeks, with everything going on, they simply supported each other as friends. They laughed, they joked, they had pillow fights. They swam in his pool and walked on the beach. At times he'd even bring his surfboard and try to give her a lesson.

He'd start her on the sand, balancing on the board. Then he'd tip her and tilt her and catch her when she fell.

"You did that on purpose," she accused him one day.

He stood less than a foot from her, hands resting lightly on his thighs, legs spread shoulder-width apart to counteract her shortness. A grin spread across his face. Sunglasses hid his eyes. And with a cocky smirk he asked, "So what if I did?"

She pushed him away and ran further up the beach, turning around and laughing as she continued to move. "I'll think of something!" she called back. But somehow, she never did.

When Mr. Mars came home, Logan still hung around, going out with Veronica. It must have worried Keith because he almost immediately sat them both down to talk.

"Well," Keith began, "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Logan thought, '_Damn. I'm in trouble.'_ He didn't know what to say. He looked helplessly at Veronica and hoped she would take the lead.

"Dad," she said, "I know what you're thinking. And you're wrong. Ok, so maybe you would have been right before but not anymore." She paused dramatically, then added, "The biggest thing is, Logan has changed."

Her words echoed through Logan like a balm. She'd forgiven him and he'd long since forgiven her. He looked at his hands folded together on the table and couldn't help the smile that started to form. '_I could get used to this.'_ He felt like an idiot but his heart began to soar.

Keith watched Veronica with a bland expression. She rolled her eyes and started again, "Logan and I have come a long way. There's still a lot that you don't know."

Logan saw Keith's eyes narrow and Veronica's face harden. As if they were in a duel, the two opponents hovered at a standstill.

"Care to share?" Keith asked dryly.

She volleyed like a pro. "No. There are things a parent doesn't need to know."

At that point, Logan felt compelled to interject. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and squirmed in his seat.

"Look, don't argue because of me, ok? I was an ass. We all know it. I'll probably be an ass again." He paused, looked at Keith, his eyes intense. "I don't have any excuses. If I did, I wouldn't use them. I made mistakes. I'm learning from them and trying to move on." He stood silently a moment, organizing his thoughts and letting that sink in.

When he spoke again, his tone resonated as soft and sincere. "The thing is, Mr. Mars, with all the shit I've got going on in my life, there's only one thing that matters. Your daughter. That's it. Just her. Honestly, I don't know why she has faith in me but goddamn, I really want to deserve it."

Keith studied Logan intently. Logan held the older man's gaze. He respected the former sheriff, admired him even. Not to mention Keith Mars scared the shit out of him. He held his breath and waited for Keith to speak. When he did, it brought Logan great relief.

"All right, Logan. I'll give you a chance. You can hang out, stick around this summer. I won't even object too loudly if you and my daughter decide to date." Keith took his turn to pause, looking at Logan long and hard. "But, son, if you ever put my little girl in danger, you're through. You won't get any more chances. You hear me?"

Logan nodded and started to say, "I hear you," when Veronica interrupted.

"Dad," she said irritably, "Logan's not the only one to be held responsible, you know. I make my own decisions and my own mistakes."

"I know, sweetheart, but still...Logan needs to know that the cost of screwing up now would be high," Keith insisted.

"He knows," Veronica said firmly, "Trust me."

The fact that she defended him to her dad meant the world to Logan. Logan's emotions were flying high. He felt ecstatic and giddy. Overwhelmed and scared. '_What did I ever do to deserve her loyalty?'_ Loyalty meant everything to Logan. He gave it freely but rarely received it in return.

When she walked him to the door that night, he pulled her outside and pinned her to the wall. They hadn't kissed since before she'd accused him of murder. That night in the pool house where he'd told her he wanted her to trust him. And she'd said she did.

They'd been so happy. For all of a minute. They'd been making out, laughing. Then it had all come to an end. All because he decided he needed a drink and the goddamn key broke in the lock of the liquor cabinet.

It had been too long since that fateful day. He couldn't hold himself back anymore. He buried his face in her hair, sprinkled kisses along her jaw. When their lips met, he poured himself into her, releasing every pent up emotion he had.

She responded to him immediately, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers burying themselves in his hair. He clung to her and she held onto him. She was all that he had left. His desperation, his need, his lust, every emotion coursing through him emanated like a beacon and swept them both away.

When he broke the kiss, he touched his forehead to hers. They laughed and looked at each other with incredulity. Shock and wonder in their eyes. It was the Camelot all over again. Only this time, he hoped, there would be no turning back.

Logan framed her face with his hands. He kissed her forehead and her nose, then pecked her on the lips. "So," he said with a shy little smirk, his body thrumming with energy, his voice eager for her answer, "Does this mean we're back together?"

"Considering why we broke up, I'm surprised you want me," Veronica snarked, trying to cover her insecurity, her blue eyes twinkling like sapphires.

Logan chuckled and shook his head, tipping her face up for another kiss. When their lips parted, he quipped in return with a reassuring, "Well, you know, I am a masochist."

She laughed and rolled her eyes as she shook her head. She patted his cheek patiently. "Of course you are. What else would you be?"

"A sadist," he returned with a waggle of his brows, then added with a twitch of his lips, "But I've given that up, at least for the most part."

"Right," Veronica laughed, "Well, maybe I'll start. Ever heard of being cruel to be kind?"

"Isn't that a song?" Logan asked in delight.

"Shut up and kiss me," Veronica ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, doing as she said with a flourish and a spin.

Over the next several weeks they were practically inseparable. She went with him to meet his lawyers. He got so turned on watching her work. She brought him his lunch. They made out in his truck and more on the beach.

Every waking hour was spent losing himself in her. Getting intoxicated by her in ways that would never compare to even the very best drug. All in all, he thought, he had a nearly perfect existence.

Then came the preliminary hearing where everything '_normal'_ that they'd built teetered on the edge of extinction. The paparazzi were there, the news crews, too. And while legally everything went his way, in reality it couldn't have been much worse.

No one believed him. Not the press, not the court, not his family, not even most of his friends. No one except Veronica. It didn't matter that the DA decided he didn't have enough evidence. The public had already labeled him a murderer. Just like his dad.

Veronica sat by his side and held his hand, urging him not to listen, "Seriously, Logan, they don't even know you. Don't let them get to you like this."

Scornful thoughts kept coming even as he nodded. He sat sullenly looking out the window of the limo, the image of the crowd picketing him just wouldn't go away. She reached for him, tugged on his arm, tried to pull him closer.

The son of a movie star had spent his whole life being verbally and emotionally abused. When it came from his father, he expected it. When the insults and accusations were hurled at him from strangers, they blindsided him, which somehow made things much worse.

For a moment, he thought about how he couldn't hide and felt sorry for himself that he couldn't catch a break. Then he let himself feel Veronica's soothing presence. He relaxed against her and closed his eyes. '_Maybe she can make it all go away.'_

She was his lifeline. His hold on everything good. He threw himself into his relationship with her. Their makeout sessions became more intense. He desperately needed her to know what she meant to him. He ached to hold her and touch her. Bury himself inside her if she'd let him.

But he didn't want to push her. He knew her history well. He still felt guilty about it. Instead, he daydreamed, he obsessed, he did everything he could to make all that up to her. To be the best boyfriend he could.

He visited her at her new job. Took her to movies and out to dinner. He tried not to let it bother him when Duncan showed up, made a habit of sitting in her section.

"Hey, DK," Logan said when he approached his old friend one day.

Duncan didn't even look at him. Just kept on staring at his book. Only when Veronica came near did he speak and then only to her. "Latte when you have a minute?" he said with a smile.

She smiled back and gave him a nod. Logan watched the entire exchange. Anger and jealousy boiled up inside him as he thought, '_Fucker's trying to steal my girlfriend!'_

His time spent with Veronica became stressed and strained. Things were heating up between his friends, the 09ers, and the PCHers. They started playing a dangerous game of tit for tat.

Veronica did her best to let him know he wasn't alone. She tried to get him to see reason and leave things be. He loved her for it. Held on to her. Considered her to be his personal life preserver. The only thing holding him together.

He tried to act unfazed, like nothing bothered him even though it did. He knew Veronica could see through him but she wanted '_normal'_ so much more than he did. He only wanted it for her. Neither one of them were very successful at making it happen. Not with the whole situation so beyond them.

They pretended to be normal, though. They pretended when they were together and they pretended when they were apart. Sometimes they convinced themselves but most of the time it didn't work. The last straw came when the PCHers shot into his truck while they were making out.

The night had been perfect. They were alone for the first time in quite a while. They were kissing and groping each other in the back of his truck, the entire experience like a dream. Her touch calmed him, elated him, made him feel like the king of the world.

When they broke apart, she smiled at him, the look on her face tugged at his heart. He lightly brushed her cheek with his fingertips and cupped her chin as she reluctantly tried to pull away.

"I should probably go. 'Cause my dad is probably watching us through a telescope," she said.

Whispering in response while still trying to kiss her, he glanced briefly toward the window, "He's probably impressed with your virtue."

She chuckled and held back, not letting him reach her, "And that telescope is mounted on a rifle."

Looking toward her apartment, Logan held up one hand and spoke softly into the night as if her father could not only see but understand him, "Five more minutes."

She laughed at his audacity but he leaned back to say, "He should feel lucky. I mean, you could be out here with some pretty boy jerk just looking to get laid."

He moved in to kiss her again but she stopped him. "Wait. What are you saying? You're not pretty?"

Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight and he held her gaze adoringly, "What I'm trying to say is I'm in love with you."

Breath catching in her throat, her eyes sparkled in wonder. She shook her head and cupped the back of his neck before she said, "The things guys'll say to get past second base."

She pulled him toward her and he laid her back as their lips met in a tender and passionate kiss. Things between them began to smolder, seeming to lead in a direction they never had. Logan had worked his way up from her waist to her left breast right before a shot rang out.

A motorcycle engine revved just after the glass in his rear window blew out. They gasped and he ducked to cover them both. They sat up stunned and scared when it ended.

After that, it didn't matter what she said or what she did. Logan's thoughts inevitably swirled more and more darkly. He didn't know what to do but he knew he couldn't do nothing. He couldn't pretend things were ok anymore.

His life had become a circus, with him constantly in the center ring. He lived in danger and brought danger to anyone around him. He couldn't escape and he couldn't protect himself let alone her. His every action had become a spectator sport. He hated it. He revolted against it and rebelled.

Whatever loose grip he'd had on sanity disappeared. He lost it. He started to fight back. He spiraled quickly out of control. He couldn't turn back once he'd begun to melt down. Not even Veronica could save him.


	5. Chapter 5

The last week of summer school marked the beginning of the end for Logan and Veronica. Logan couldn't believe he had to be in summer school anyway. It hadn't been his fault, after all, that he'd been arrested and missed his finals.

Veronica came to visit him for lunch, always the best part of any day. But this day was different. When she got there, Logan's mood couldn't have been more foul. She took his hand and they started walking.

The first words out of his mouth were bitter ones. "My sister's negotiating with the networks to sell her version of the Aaron Echolls story." He glanced at her quickly before adding sarcastically, "I think the sticking point is that she's insisting on playing herself. The producers, on the other hand, are insisting on Tara Reid."

"Trina wasn't even around," Veronica said incredulously.

"Who do you suppose cares?" came his exhausted and hopeless response. He knew how the industry worked. This bullshit could not be more typical. He waited a beat to see if she'd have a response and when she didn't, he said sourly, "I always wanted a TV movie version of my life," then added with a tiny smile and a little humor, "Hey, think they can get Tom Welling to play me?"

Veronica smiled in response and teased, "Dream on."

As they reached the parking lot, Dick and Cassidy were just pulling in. They opened their doors and jumped out of the truck, Dick immediately calling out to his friend. "Logan! Aaand Logan's special lady friend whom I approve of wholeheartedly and without reservation."

"Dick," Veronica acknowledged in her most tolerant voice, then added, "Hey Cassidy."

Cassidy hitched up his backpack higher on his shoulder and gave her a small smile, "What's up, Veronica?"

Logan acknowledged them both with an amused, "Boys." When Logan saw Dick open the hatch on his truck, he instantly became uncomfortable.

As if confirming Logan's fear, Dick stated conversationally, "I got the supplies. Enbom and Rams are gonna meet us at the Sac N' Pac."

Trying to backpedal, think fast, and avoid a '_situation'_, Logan asked, "Uhh, can't we do this later?" He knew Veronica would easily catch on and he couldn't provide a valid explanation for what they were doing.

But of course, it was too late.

"What's all the gasoline for?" Veronica asked.

Logan had to think fast but even then, he knew his excuse would be seriously lame. "We're gonna...go kill the grass in the Pan High football field, spell out Pan Sucks."

In spite of the flimsy explanation, Dick - ever loyal and faithful - backed him. "Which it does."

Veronica stared up at him and Logan knew he couldn't dare look back. She'd see right through him. And more than that, she'd demand answers.

The atmosphere rapidly became awkward and tense. Veronica eyed him suspiciously and left without eating lunch.

As soon as she disappeared, Logan whacked Dick upside the head. Utterly annoyed, he demanded, "Dude, what are you trying to do? Break us up?"

"What?" Dick asked, unperturbed, "I didn't know she'd be here. Man, you seriously need to just relax."

Shaking his head in disgust, Logan turned to Cassidy, "How is it that you got all the common sense?"

"It's my curse, I guess," Cassidy answered blandly.

Uncomfortable now that Veronica knew that something would happen, Logan shifted from foot to foot. He ran his hand through his hair and said nervously, "I don't know, man. Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"No way, dude!" Dick protested instantly, "Everything's all set up!"

Logan glanced at Cassidy who hung back silently. He wouldn't offer any input. It took a few moments of struggling inwardly, but Logan eventually said, "Fine. We'll do it. But if this comes back to bite me with Veronica, I swear to god I'll kick your ass!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dick scoffed, "She's got your balls in a vise. Understood."

They got in the truck and headed off, picking up Enbom and Rams along the way.

They completed the deed several hours later. They'd lit the community pool on fire, watched as it started to burn, then hightailed it out of there.

It was not Logan's finest moment.

'_In fact,' _he frowned as he made his way home, '_That was even lower than the bum fights.'_

He knew he needed to stop but he didn't know how. He'd gone too far and done too much. In spite of his promise to Keith Mars, he'd been leading the 09ers in a war against the PCHers, ever since they'd shot into his truck.

Mostly they'd taken aim at the bikers directly. Toilet papering their houses and shooting stink bombs into their yards. A number of times they had called in the Sheriff's Department, claiming some falsified harassment. This time, though, this time they had hit them where it hurt. It wouldn't be just the PCHers who would pay, it would be their entire community.

The worst of it occurred when he flopped on his bed and hit the remote to turn on the news. His handiwork headlined the top of the hour. Right then and there, he knew. No way in hell would Veronica let him get away with it.

When he saw Veronica the next day, he thought he had prepared for anything she might throw at him but nothing could have readied him for what actually happened.

After she got off work, he drove to her place to meet up with her. Her dad wasn't home when he got there so she invited him in and asked him to sit down so they could talk. He already knew that he'd be in trouble so he figured he might as well get it over with.

Seated on the couch, he faced her. She sat on the cushion next to him and did the same. She took his hands in hers and looked at him earnestly before she spoke. When she did, her words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"I kept thinking that if I just stuck by you, that you'd get past this, this phase, and you'd be you again."

A look of shock and horror overtook his features. His voice was nearly cracking with emotion. "What, are you breaking up with me?"

"I can't stay with you," she said, her eyes begging him to understand even as she confirmed his worst nightmare, "Not with you and your '_toadies' _cruising around at night and hatching plans, _refusing_ to let everything get back to normal. Someone's gonna get _killed,_ Logan."

Had he been able to register anyone's emotions but his in that moment, he would have recognized fear. Not just fear but terror. And she felt that for him.

Instead, he remained oblivious, unable to recognize anything but his own agony.

"Someone already has. Did you forget that already?" he asked incredulously. His voice started to quaver as he continued, "And most of the people in this town, they think that I did it. Those people you call toadies, they're my friends. They've got my back."

Unable to stay still anymore, he pushed himself back till he sat on the arm of the couch, putting a couple feet of distance between them.

"It's not about protection, Logan," Veronica insisted vehemently, "It's about pride."

He covered his face, disbelieving, but she continued.

"And the thing that I can't stand? I'm pretty sure there's a part of you that's having fun with all of this." He didn't look at her but it sounded like she almost released a tiny sardonic laugh.

He couldn't take it anymore. He started to break.

"Fun?! Fun?" Logan stood and spun around, sending the lamp beside the couch flying before he turned back to her, pointing a finger in her direction, his face filled with pain. "My mom is dead. My girlfriend is dead. My dad is a murderer. And the only person I still care about is dumping me. You think I'm having FUN?! Answer me, ok? Just tell me - "

Her dad arrived in the midst of the yelling. He stormed through the front door and immediately had Logan face first against a wall, arm twisted upward behind his back.

"You don't talk to my daughter that way," Keith said firmly, "You're leaving now and you're never coming back."

Logan left, all right. He got in his truck and slammed the door, pounding his fists against the steering wheel. The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally began to fall. He sat there and sobbed, unable to stop himself, not knowing what else to do.

He'd already thought about taking the easy way out, gone to the bridge to contemplate ending things. '_Look where that got me.' _This time he'd have to try something different. He spun out his tires and headed home, intent on raiding the liquor cabinet. He planned to drink himself into oblivion.

On his way there, tears continued to stream down his face. Despair and devastation filled him. Later, he would be able to remember just one thing about that drive. A single realization consumed him. '_Nothing, __not even the most brutal beating can compare to being betrayed and abandoned by the one person who had a chance of saving me__.'_


	6. Chapter 6

Nothing good could come of Logan hanging out at Dick's. He knew that, but he just didn't care. He avoided going to school, avoided his senior year, avoided his former best friend and, more than anything, he avoided Veronica.

Hanging out at Dick's seemed like the lesser of two evils. He and Dick hung out by the pool while Beaver did a cannonball into the deep end. He saw her for the first time that day. Kendall Casablancas. Dick and Cassidy's latest step-mom.

Gorgeous. Perfectly proportioned. Every teenaged boy's wet dream. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have cared. Sure she oozed sex but she clearly portrayed herself as a cougar desperate for attention. Generally, Logan didn't play that game.

But with him alone and Veronica dating Duncan, Logan's fragile ego had been bruised. No, more than that. His confidence had been shaken. He found himself licking his wounds and questioning everything he thought he knew.

No way had Veronica seen him as a placeholder for Duncan. No. Not Duncan Fucking Donut, the zombified version of America's Golden Boy. The Veronica he knew could barely tolerate that simpering, sniveling mess.

'_Then what?'_ She'd talked all summer about things getting back to '_normal'_ and he thought he'd understood what she wanted. But maybe he hadn't. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that her '_normal'_ could be defined as being in a persistent state of denial. A desire to live in the past.

'_Fuck that.'_ The past consisted only of heartache and pain, not to mention beatings, bitterness, and loss. Right here, right now. The only time of any importance. He wanted to be able to feel good again, without having to expend emotion. '_Nothing like living for today to help you forget the past.' _

Those were his thoughts as he studied Kendall Casablancas strutting her stuff by the pool. It would be effortless. No strings attached. Something to distract him and that would be all. '_If Veronica can pretend to move on, why can't I?''_

Dick interrupted Logan's thoughts when he looked at him from the lounge chair beside him and said, "What's the deal-io, bro? You ever showin' up at school?"

"Ehh, what for?" Logan responded, pulling a throw pillow out from under him, "No one seems to care. I'm practically an orphan. I can do whatever I want."

He didn't speak the truth in its entirety and he knew it. Veronica cared. '_How many times has she proved that to be true?' _

Kendall went inside for a few minutes while they talked. When she returned, she held a drink in her hand and addressed them with a condescending smile.

"Welcome home, children. How was school? Would you like a rice crispy treat?" In spite of her words, her eyes were only for Logan. He didn't need to see them behind her shades to be able to read them. Her demeanor and that smirk said it all.

"Aw gee, mom, you're the best, but I'll pass," Cassidy said sarcastically as he dried off with a towel by the pool. Then looking at Logan, he asked, "You've met mumsy, right?"

Lost for words for a moment, Logan tried to remember. '_Have I met her?'_

Dick attempted to be helpful by prompting him with clues, "The club, the clambake, remember?"

'_Nope. Don't remember her. The club, the clambake, sure. I enjoyed those with Veronica by my side. Definitely some of the better nights of my life.' _His mask of indifference faltered for a moment. Thankfully, Dick and Cassidy weren't paying attention.

Dick had turned to Beav to say, "God, you're retarded."

Which had Cassidy responding, "Yet it's a miracle I managed to score 400 points higher than you on the SAT, huh?"

"Boys, you don't want me to tell your father you couldn't play nice," Kendall remarked in warning.

By the time that brief exchange ended, Logan had made a decision. There were so many ways that an '_arrangement'_ with the new Mrs. Casablancas could be mutually beneficial. The prospect became too tempting to resist.

Lifting a finger, he flirted playfully to get her attention, "Uhh, I want a rice krispie treat."

She wasn't having it. Her tone suddenly changed and he knew she would attempt to play hardball. "Go make it yourself then, kid. Do I look like a cook?"

She took off her sunglasses and gave him a _'look.'_ Then, obviously for his benefit, she shrugged off the flimsy cover-up to reveal her barely there bikini, turned on her heel, and sashayed to the pool. As she entered the water, her eyes gleamed in satisfaction.

'_Yeah. She knows she's got my attention. And that's just what she wanted, too.'_

"You guys are twisted," Cassidy commented as his friend and his brother watched his step-mom ease herself into the pool.

"So where did your dad meet her?" Logan asked Dick with interest.

"She was a Laker Girl. And, you know my dad. He has good seats," Dick explained.

Cassidy added to it just the information Logan had wanted to know. "A certain Laker All-Stars wife had her fired. Didn't like the look of her."

"So what are you doin' tonight, bro?" Dick asked with a nod and half-smile.

The wheels in Logan's mind turned. An idea quickly formed in his head. "Well, as much as I enjoy the company of _men_, I've got other plans tonight." He made a kissy face and flashed Dick '_the shocker.'_

"That, I can respect," Dick responded, his fingers forming a '_shocker'_ of his own.

The two boys '_toasted'_ them together in some sort of masculine ritual before Logan's eyes moved back to the subject of his thoughts.

Mr. Casablancas had gone out of town that day and now he knew that Dick and Beav wouldn't be home, either. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Logan would get his revenge, a form of escape, and a way to make Veronica jealous all in one.

Who he needed revenge against still had to be decided upon. A casual '_fuck you' _directed at his father whereby he slept with another man's wife so he'd feel better about Aaron having had sex with his girlfriend? A way to get back at Duncan for taking Veronica, saying '_Ha! I'm getting laid and you're not'_? 'Cause surely with her history, their history, that would be the case.

Or simple revenge against Veronica for breaking up with him, for leaving him alone when he needed her most? He didn't doubt for a second that his actions were a ploy to get her attention, to make her jealous. An attempt to make her as miserable as him.

In the end, he believed that all of the above motivated him. Making everyone pay for how they had hurt him, including himself.

Leaving before dinner, he spent a couple hours surfing before he went back to his place and took a shower. He checked the time, grabbed a quick snack, waited until Dick and Beaver would be gone, then headed back to the Casablancas Estate.

He practically skipped up to the door and waved his index finger in a circle before landing it deliberately on the bell. He stood there, a confident smirk on his face, sure he knew how this would go down.

It took several minutes and more than one ring but then he finally heard the sharp, staccato steps of Mrs. Kendall Casablancas. Confirmation of her presence on the other side of the door came with her shout, "Who the hell is it? This had better be important!" She flung the door open and stood before him wearing nothing but silky lingerie.

"Oh, it's you," she said in a tone of bored disinterest, "Your little friends aren't here. You can go home now."

Logan ogled her with open appreciation, taking in her barely there teddy and her smooth olive skin. He gave her a knowing look and a lecherous smirk before he said, "I think you know I'm not here for them."

She looked pleased, lowered her lashes, and wet her lips. Her eyes assessed him carefully, then finding what she wanted, she turned carefully. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she gave him her best '_come hither' _gaze and said, "Well then, let's get on with it. You think I have all night?"

Thus began their meaningless affair. It became an inside joke, a favorite double entendre, for him to show up at the door in the middle of the day just to ask if Dick and Beaver could come out to play. She'd immediately lose whatever little clothing she had and would proceed to make his day.

Nowhere close to emotionally fulfilling or even remotely satisfying, but it did scratch that most basic physical itch. Twisted and sadistic, he knew, but all things considered, he looked forward to the day he'd get caught.


	7. Chapter 7

The thought of the newly reunited couple holding hands or kissing, trying to be all sweet and innocent like they used to be, made him want to vomit. Seeing it in person, though, brought his nausea to a whole new level.

He leaned against the bus that he'd been considering riding, but as soon as he saw Duncan and Veronica coming toward him, he felt bile rising in his throat and instantly knew he was gonna bail.

'_Mayday, SOS, red alert, if I go on this fucking field trip, I will definitely crash and burn.'_

His heart ached with longing and regret as the pair that was mostly estranged from him came closer. Before he could stop himself, he stepped out in front of them, his eyes zeroed in on Veronica's, begging her silently to look at him the way she'd just been looking at Duncan.

"I'm going to miss you." The words that he'd thought were only in his head somehow made their way out of his mouth. '_Shit. I'm going to regret saying that. Abort! Must get out NOW! Before I say something else that'll come back to haunt me.'_

Rapping his knuckles on the side of the bus, he strode toward the parking lot with long strides. He turned away then, but he he couldn't stop himself from glancing back at the bus, his eyes searching the windows for one last glimpse of Veronica.

When his eyes locked onto Veronica's, his heart clenched in his chest and he almost choked. His heart sped up, his eyes stung with tears. He spun back around and stormed toward his truck. '_Fuck. Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.'_

Leaping into his SUV, he slammed the door behind him, sitting for a moment as he pounded his fists on the steering wheel in frustrationbefore finally let the tears of love and loss fly. He gave himself exactly two minutes for his emotional breakdown, and then forced himself to pull it together. Clearly, he needed to make a damn tough decision.

'_I can't keep doing this. I know I love her but I've gotta let her go.' _He wracked his brain for a solution but only one thing came to mind: his old stand-by for whenever he and Lilly were on the outs. '_Effective or not, I've gotta give it a try. I need to fuck, fuck, fuck her out of my system.'_

Throwing the XTerra into drive, he spun the wheels and headed to the Casablancas estate. With Dick and Beaver on the field trip and their father most likely at the office or out of town, Logan figured it was a pretty sure bet that Kendall would be available to accommodate him.

After a full day of doing just as he'd planned, he and Kendall were nearly caught _in flagrante_ when Dick Sr., Dick Jr, and Cassidy arrived home. Luckily, Kendall heard them just in time, talking as they came up the front steps.

Logan raced up the stairs and bounced on Dick's bed, picking up the tv remote and game controller. He got a game going that would let him jump right into the action so it wouldn't look like he'd just started. Not two minutes later, Dick and Cassidy walked in looking a little suspicious and Logan knew immediately that he needed to throw up a smokescreen.

"Dude, why's your step-mom such a bitch?" he said.

The tension diffused quickly as both boys moved to join him on the floor. Dick started to open his mouth as if to say something but before he could, Logan continued obliviously.

"I mean, seriously, a guy asks for one sandwich…"

At that moment, Mr. Casablancas appeared in the door, hands stuffed in his suit pockets, making Logan even more glad that he'd decided to play up Kendall being a bitch.

"Hi, Logan," Dick Sr. greeted him with a smile as he took two steps into the room, "How's everything going?"

Logan gave his biggest, cheesiest smile and said with false cheer, "_Really_ well. Thanks for asking, Mr. C, and you?" Given everything that had happened to him only a moron would believe that he'd ever really be '_ok.' _

But Mr. Casablancas didn't seem to notice the lie. Instead, he said with a look of kindness, almost as if he cared, "Excellent."

"See, you had to one-up me," Logan added in an '_aw shucks'_ sort of way meant to prove he wasn't a threat.

Dick Sr. chuckled as he moved further into the room, seeming to contemplate something. Then he said rather generously, "Listen, don't worry about Mrs. Casablancas. You're welcome here anytime."

Logan paused with a self-satisfied smile on his face, thinking to himself, '_Holy shit! I fucking did it! He doesn't suspect a thing.' _

Mr. Casablancas continued by saying seriously, "You like to bust chops. I respect that."

Pleased, Logan nodded and said, "Thanks," hoping the man would leave.

Just as he reached the door, though, Dick Sr. looked at him and said, "Hey, Dick Jr. and I are going over to the firing range tomorrow. Interest you in a little target practice?"

"Well, as long as I'm not the target," Logan said with a smile, raising his hands in surrender, continuing to work hard to seem harmless.

Dick Sr. raised his fingers and pretended to shoot at Logan, then he laughed, turned, and left the room.

Logan's guard came down as his friends watched their dad exit the bedroom. He looked scared and vulnerable and he thought, '_If I fuck this up, I'll be a dead man.'_

As soon as his dad was gone, Dick Jr. whacked Logan's shoulder, finally able to spill the news he'd tried to relay to his friend earlier.

"Dude! Did you hear about the bus?!"

Looking at Dick blandly, Logan asked with disinterest, "What bus?" then turned to Beaver and shook his head, "What the hell is he talking about?"

Beaver shrugged and opened his mouth but Dick interrupted him, his words tripping over each other in his excitement, "DUDE! Seriously?! THE BUS! What, you already forgot you ditched us on the trip to Shark Stadium?"

Shark Stadium. '_Fuck. Well, apparently I succeeded in my mission of forgetting. Until now. Thanks a ton, Dick.'_

But apparently Dick had seen the light of realization in Logan's eyes because he was already continuing his exposition.

"...so we called dad and got him to hire a car for the return trip because goddamn that bus was RANK." Dick waved his hands around to illustrate his words and then backhanded his brother's shoulder to make sure he was in agreement. "Right, Beav? Anyway, it was a damn good thing we got ourselves a limo because, dude, the fucking bus drove right over the cliff!"

Bus. Cliff. Veronica. Suddenly all the work he'd put in to forget that he cared had disappeared. Adrenaline pumped through him and he gripped Dick by both shoulders, "Dude. Who was on the bus? Where are they? Is anyone alive?" If Veronica was hurt or...worse...he didn't think he'd survive.

Off to the side, Beaver snickered. It was obvious that he thought his brother was an idiot, botching the tale from every angle. Logan glanced at him, his eyes pleading.

"Duncan and a few others were in the limo with us," Cassidy explained, leaving out any information about Veronica.

Looking back to Dick, Logan's voice was raspy as he asked, "And Veronica?"

Rolling his eyes and sighing in exasperation, Dick responded, "We invited her to go in the limo with us but she was stubborn, dude. She insisted on riding the bus with Meg."

'_Veronica was on the bus. Holy shit.'_

Before he could start to panic, though, Dick was talking again, "Guess she got lucky, though. Bus left her behind at the gas station."

Twinkling lights flashed before Logan's eyes and he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He inhaled deeply twice, steadying himself before he tried to talk. "She's ok?"

Dick waved him off and gave him a look that said, 'Oh, please,' but Logan needed to hear it.

"Dick," he said sternly, "Tell me, man. Is. She. Ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. The traitorous bitch is fine."

'_Right. Traitor. Shit. Guess fucking her out of my system didn't work out so well after all.'_

Moving to his feet, Logan stumbled toward the door, tossing back over his shoulder, "I gotta get out of here."

"See you tomorrow?" Dick asked, then called out when he didn't get a response, "Don't forget the shooting range!"

The next day proved interesting. Logan had never shot a gun before. He found it took quite a bit of concentration. He liked that, especially since it required a singular focus and meant he couldn't think about Veronica, bus crashes, or torrid affairs.

Dick Sr. shot off a few rounds, all to the head and the heart. Then Dick Jr. took his turn, '_gangsta style'_. Most of his shots landed somewhere between limbs and the gut which caused Logan to say sarcastically, "That'll slow 'em down."

Then came his turn. He pushed up the safety glasses and concentrated on the target. He lifted the gun, aimed, and after a moment of deliberation pulled the trigger. He followed that ritual several times. He hit around the four corners of the target and managed one shot to the head.

Just as he pretended to blow smoke from the end of the gun, thinking he hadn't done so bad, Mr. Casablancas came up behind him, startling him a bit and giving him pause.

"You ever shoot before, son?" he asked.

"Uhh, no," Logan answered, pulling the muffs from his ears.

"It's a good way to let off some steam," Dick Sr. said seriously, "But when you're at the point where you want to shoot someone, you wanna take 'em down. You don't wanna wing 'em."

Logan nodded and listened. He'd always been a quick learner.

Seeing he had Logan's attention, Mr. Casablancas pointed down the range and said, "Heart and head. That's where it counts."

An ache settled in Logan's chest at the words. He knew Mr. Casablancas hadn't been speaking about emotions, but if the shoe fit…

"Ain't that the truth," Logan joked cheerfully, a touch of bitterness in his tone.

Mr. Casablancas completely missed the irony. He simply continued with his instruction, "You need to focus. Precision. The ability to only think about the task at hand," he paused a moment and then said, "When I'm working, my family doesn't exist. That sound awful?"

A more loaded question would have been difficult to find but Logan knew the answer expected, "Mmm, no."

"It's not," Mr. Casablancas agreed, then added, "Because when I'm with my family, work doesn't exist." He looked down to spin the barrel of his gun.

Logan took the moment to look over at Dick, sure his friend hadn't handled his father's speech very well. Dick had turned away and looked down at his own gun, facing the range. '_Nope. Not handling it well at all.'_

With that knowledge, Logan again took on his harmless jokester persona while inwardly he seethed. He nodded with a tight-lipped smile and said, "I think my father has a similar philosophy. Course, he's a murderer, soo…" He stood up for his friend in the only way he could in that moment and hoped it would be enough. '_At least now Dick should know he's not alone in the douchebag parent club.'_

For a few moments, Mr. Casablancas looked utterly confused. Then he let it go with an uncomfortable laugh, deciding Logan couldn't have been serious. He patted Logan on the arm and walked away.

Dick Jr. took the chance to step over. "Hey, we should have some chicks over tomorrow night," he said. '_Of course. How else would he show gratitude for my attempt at standing up to his father?'_ "My dad's got this banquet at the Grand and he's forcing Kendall to go with him."

"Dude, have you forgotten?" Logan asked, "I live alone."

"Yeah, but only psycho chicks wanna go to '_casa de killer'_," Dick stated with a laugh.

Between the lesson from Dick Sr. and the harsh truth from Dick Jr., Logan's blood began to boil. '_Focus and precision, Mr. C? Here's some focus and precision for you.' _

He proceeded to look down the range, lift his gun, and with a look of cold, steady rage took a single shot that went straight through the heart. Logan looked down at the gun and up at the target. '_I've got to put this down and walk away. If I don't, someone's gonna get hurt.' _

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That night, instead of going to hang out with Dick and Cassidy, he met Kendall at the Grand for some loud and boisterous sex. He threw himself into it with a fervor. Anything not to think about all the things that had been on his mind since earlier.

Even while banging Kendall's brains out, a niggling thought nagged at the back of his mind. They were in the suite next door to the presidential. And from what he'd heard, that particular room had been reserved by his former bestie, Duncan.

As always, thoughts of Duncan led straight to memories of Veronica and that just made him fuck Kendall harder. '_I wonder if she's over there right now...' _Somehow, the thought motivated him. '_I hope she can hear us through the fucking walls. Goddamit, I hope she's fucking jealous as hell when she hears Kendall come.'_

With the whirlwind of thoughts and the flurry of emotions that permeated his being throughout their time together, they were both left winded and sated. At least physically.

When they'd finished their '_business' _and he got ready to go, he picked up his coat and wondered, '_Hmm...Will I see Veronica?'_ The notion had barely gone through his mind and been dismissed when he stepped into the hall and saw her standing outside the next door down.

Ducking his head, he studied her in a way that wrinkled his forehead. His gut tied itself into knots the longer that he watched her. '_She looks like she just had sex.'_ It hit him like a sucker-punch to the gut and he nearly doubled over. To cover, he leaned against the wall to tie his shoe even though his eyes never left hers.

The guilty look on her face and the fact that she couldn't meet his eyes readily confirmed his suspicions. He had to lock his jaw and take a couple of measured breaths before his trusty defense mode of sarcasm kicked in.

"Hmm," he said, unable to keep himself from setting her up, playing the game, "What's different about you?" He moved toward her and put on his coat. "Did you cut your hair or something?" He asked facetiously. He knew that wasn't it. '_How could she go there? With HIM, after everything he did? Fucking hell this hurts! Get out, Echolls. Get out NOW.' _

He didn't know what Veronica thought, but he knew she'd made a bad choice. Duncan had been his best friend for ages, practically his whole life, but he only knew how to stand idly by. He'd ignored her, and slept with her when she'd been dosed, then left her to wake up alone. '_Don't you know that NEVER would have happened with me? Even at my worst?'_

The metaphorical knife in his gut twisted and choked him. '_I've gotta get out of here before I lose it,' _he thought desperately. But first, he had to go in for the kill, "Ya know, FYI, if the cuddling is the best part, he didn't do it right."

Logan took one more look at her, then turned and walked away. His face felt numb, as if a mask of plaster had been hiding his emotions and as soon as he no longer faced her, it cracked and fell away.

When he entered the elevator, he refused to look back. Pain and agony filled him... along with a very small measure of smug satisfaction. He couldn't risk her seeing any of that.

She'd been shell-shocked, stunned when she saw him walk out that door. And as he punched the button for the lobby, he couldn't help but think bitterly to himself, '_Score one for me. In a game of excruciating pain, I can give as good as I fucking get.'_


	8. Chapter 8

Future Business Leaders of America. It used to be the only extracurricular school activity that Logan could stand. Actually, he found it interesting and almost enjoyable. Until the day that Veronica Mars walked in.

'_Fucking hell! She's everywhere! Hard to ignore her when she's pulling shit like this.'_

She took a seat between him and Duncan. Rubbing his face in it when they kissed. Logan's stomach churned. He couldn't hide his disgust. More than that. He found he didn't want to.

Dropping his hand and dangling his sandwich, he looked at the pair with contempt. "Now I've lost my appetite."

His words didn't matter. They didn't change a thing. For the entire lunch period while the club met, he tried desperately not to throw up. That and plot his revenge.

Between meetings, Logan thought about how he'd handle the next one. He didn't know if he'd manage to last the semester with the way things were. '_Maybe I can find a way to make it bearable.'_

When the '_adorable couple'_ entered the room the next week, Logan appeared ready but then he faltered. He caught Duncan's eye when he and Veronica entered but the look on her face floored him.

'_Something's wrong,' _ he thought. He almost got up to go ask her about it but then he looked down at the desk and remembered bitterly, '_Oh yeah. It's no longer my problem.'_

As the pair approached, he picked up his lunch and made a show of moving out of their way. After that, he put on his armor, got his mask in place, and prepared for whatever may happen.

Then, with purpose and precision, he readied himself to ignore the couple beside him and engage in the discussion about the ridiculous stock market game instead. '_Snark and sarcasm are the keys to my success.'_

He used his first key almost immediately, when Mr. Pope walked in and told them they were each worth a million dollars. With a smirk on his face, he piped up, "What? I've lost money?! Heads will roll…"

Mr. Pope pulled up charts and began to drone on, something about his own portfolios. Logan lost focus fast which meant he needed to do something before his thoughts began to wander.

Picking up a pencil, he fiddled with it between his fingers and forced himself to participate by asking, "How much REAL money did you make?"

Mr. Pope responded that he planned to retire in exactly nine months' time. He explained how it had worked, something about returns, and Dick made a smartass jibe. But Logan didn't listen.

While the teacher and his old buddy, Duncan, went back and forth about some stupid-ass sailboat, Logan took the opportunity to study Veronica. The girl he couldn't seem to evict from his mind. '_What's going on with her? There's definitely something wrong. Is it Duncan? I bet it is. God dammit, he doesn't deserve her, but then again, neither do I.'_

Logan looked back toward the front just in time to hear Mr. Pope say, "...but the hull had to be refitted twice."

Unable to resist the easy joke that could also be a targeted burn, Logan said with a smirk, "Didn't plug 'er right the first time, huh?" He finished with the end of a pen in his mouth as he casually turned a pointed glance toward Duncan.

Nothing could be more valuable than the startled look on Veronica's face and the outrage the comment provoked in Duncan.

Logan had been itching for a fight with his former friend for quite some time. School wouldn't have been his first choice for a confrontation but it ended up being the easiest.

Duncan leaped at him and they stumbled out into the hallway, crashing hard into the lockers. Once Logan regained his footing, he took a swing at Duncan but hardly paid attention to his own actions. He knew he had the upper hand and that the fight wouldn't be allowed to last long. Instead, he watched over Duncan's shoulder to see who would come to stop them.

When he saw the first person who raced out the door and into the hall, he wasn't disappointed. '_Veronica.' _He managed to get one more hit in right before they were separated and the other students herded back in the room. Before she'd been sent away, Logan saw a look on her face that left him feeling quite pleased.

In the nurse's office with Duncan, though, his ire returned. He listened to a little speech about how whoever they were fighting over wouldn't be impressed and that they should both just get over it.

After hearing that, Logan couldn't help pushing the knife in just a little bit deeper before giving it a tiny twist. "Actually, I disagree with Nurse Ratchet. I think Veronica would have been quite impressed. Probably even a little turned on, too."

"Careful, Logan," Duncan looked over his shoulder and taunted him, "You're exposing your soft underbelly."

"My underbelly is rock hard. It can go all night," Logan responded softly, the look on his face morose. '_Why am I even bothering? This is fucking worthless! No, it's not. You know why. You KNOW why.'_

"You _lost_ her. I didn't _steal_ her," Duncan declared and that made Logan jump up and head toward him.

"Oh hell with Veronica. She's in the rearview mirror." '_Not quite, but whatever. I'm trying to make a point.' _ "Where _were_ you this summer, man?"

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.

'_Fuck! He's totally oblivious! All right, dude, I'll lay it out for you, nice and clear.' _

"Oh, remember?!" Logan exclaimed, unable to hide how much his best friend's absence and betrayal had hurt him. "There was this little situation, I was accused of _murder_."

He took a step back and began again, "I am the eye of the storm and I never heard from you. It is a _war_ out there and you're on the sidelines." The pain of Duncan's disloyalty started to overwhelm him to the point that tears began to sting his eyes. "Do you remember when you used to have my back?"

"Wait, I do remember this summer," Duncan stated indignantly and immediately Logan turned away because he knew. He just knew. '_He doesn't get it.'_

"I was dealing with this thing. What was it? Oh! Yeah! I remember now." Duncan moved closer with each word, wielding them as if they were his own weapon. "Your dad murdered my sister."

By that time, Duncan stood right in his face and the look in his eyes just killed Logan. He couldn't say anything for a few moments, reeling from the hate and the rage his oldest friend directed at him.

When Duncan turned and started to walk away, Logan finally spoke although he doubted it would make a difference, "I hate him too, you know."

When Duncan disappeared, the nurse returned and started to tend to his knuckles. Logan looked down at his lap. He couldn't keep the tears from springing to his eyes again.

"I'm sorry, does that sting?" said the nurse with concern.

Logan merely turned and looked the other way. '_Yeah, it fucking stings, but not for the reasons you think. I didn't just lose my best friend, lady. I lost the only real family I've ever known.' _

After all the backstabbing, betrayal, and overall emotional turmoil, Logan needed an outlet. And no outlet could be better than a full day of meaningless sex. He ditched school the next morning and invited Kendall to come over.

He felt much, much better about himself and the world in general by the time his phone rang and Kendall reached for it. Logan grabbed for it, too, but Kendall got it first. She held it up and read the name on the display.

"Veronica," she said in surprise, "Is my little boy cheating on me?"

The name on her lips instantly ended all his fun. His heart dropped to his stomach and he grabbed for the phone again. '_Why is she calling me? She hasn't called me since...well, since we broke up.'_

"She's just someone from school," he told Kendall, trying to play it off casually.

"Ohh, a schoolgirl," Kendall said mockingly, looking down at Logan as if she knew better.

"Yeah," he replied, still trying to stay calm. He didn't want this bimbo to know how Veronica affected him.

"Should we invite her over?" Kendall asked, ready to call his bluff, "I've got a boy toy, a girl toy might spice things up a little."

'_Shit. I can NOT let her answer that phone. There's no fucking way I could explain it.' _

Suddenly, all pretense lost, he took the phone from her and threw it across the room. "I can handle the spice department myself, thank you very much."

She let him convince her and they went back to what they'd been doing. Pleased with himself and filled with relief, he thought, '_Damn, that was way too close of a call!'_

When their play date ended, she headed home and he got in his shower. As he finished up, he thought he heard his bedroom door open. He wrapped himself in a towel and peeked his head around the corner to see what might have made the noise.

After the missed phone call, it didn't surprise him to see Veronica when he stepped from the bathroom out into his room. '_Pesky little thing,'_ he thought affectionately, '_Look at you just proving that you care. You do care, don't you?' _There would always be at least some doubt in his mind.

He didn't say a word. He had no idea what had brought her there. '_Bet she loves seeing me in a towel,' _he thought ironically while he waited for her to start, a smirk nearly curling up the corners of his lips. '_Probably a goddamn dream come true.' _

"I love what you've done with the place," she said sarcastically as she picked up a lamp that had fallen to the floor.

"Yeah, well," he snarked in response, running a towel over his hair, "Now you know what you were missing."

"Is your girlfriend still here?" Veronica asked, her tone acerbic and only slightly hostile which made him think, '_Ahh, she's jealous! Right?'_

"Girlfriend?" He asked as he crossed the room to face her, "Girlfriend," he said again when he confronted her, "You're gonna have to be a little more specific." '_Seriously, what right does she have to be here at all? You gave that up, kitten, remember? YOU broke up with ME.'_

"Let me clarify," she said earnestly and with a tinge of disgust as she moved toward him, "The one whose husband is going to break you in half when he finds out that his son's old cub scout camper-ee buddy is secretly plowing his wife."

Logan almost laughed. The fact that she knew about his affair with Kendall delighted him. '_You couldn't stay away, could you? After we met in the hall at the Grand, you HAD to know who had been in the other room with me. Wait. HOW did you say you found out again?'_

"Aha! That one is less a girlfriend and more a…" he paused, searching for the right word, "playmate, kind of." He knew she wouldn't like the sound of that but better that than the alternative so he held up his hands as if in surrender.

"I hope you're scared," Veronica said with a self-righteous glare, "on the inside, Logan. What if I had been Mr. Casablancas? What would you have done then, huh? Just standing here in your towel with your room still reeking of bimbo?" The last she said with a tone of disgust.

'_She's so cute when she's trying to protect me and be indignant all at once.'_

"I s'pose I woulda had some 'splaining to do," he answered in his best Ricky Ricardo imitation. He tried his best to look both serious and bored, as if he were daring the elder Richard Casablancas to find out.

"God, Logan," Veronica exclaimed with a sneer, "What a cliche. Poor little rich boy with a death wish." She looked away a moment then looked back at him in disbelief with just a hint of fear behind her eyes. Fear and anger. "And I used to think it was bad luck that landed you in danger. The knife fight on the bridge, the drive by in your car...but no, now I see that you actually enjoy it, don't you, Logan?"

Essentially, she'd accused him of the same thing when she'd broken up with him. It hadn't been true then and it wouldn't be true now but either way, her words still hurt.

"Well, then I guess I should be grateful to have such a devoted ex-girlfriend looking after me. My very own guardian angel," he pointed out, unable to keep the bitterness and irony from his tone along with a tinge of affection.

"Don't flatter yourself," she fired back just a little too quickly, "The only reason I came here is so I won't have to feel responsible."

"Yeah, yeah," Logan said, rolling his eyes and walking toward his bed before he turned back, "Responsible for what?" he asked critically.

"For taking pictures of you and Kendall playing house," she spat. '_Ahhh, the real reason for her visit is revealed.' _ "Don't take it the wrong way, Logan. It was a JOB, nothing more."

'_Still,' _he thought, '_The lady doth protest too much.'_

"Right," he said, intent on calling her bluff, "And so you storm out in a burst of professionalism." '_No way in hell is this just a job.' _

"I suggest you start locking your doors," Veronica said before she slammed his bedroom door on her way out.

As soon as she left, he hurriedly dressed then went down the stairs to the kitchen. He grabbed an apple and walked down the hall only to find Veronica still there.

'_Un-fucking-believable.' _

She stared at a poster with her deciphering face on and he almost had to smile. '_She's still working, or something. Not sure what's going on in that head of hers but whatever it is, it's complicated.'_

He walked up behind her and lifted his apple toward his mouth but then decided to make his presence known before taking a bite.

"If this is what you call storming out, I'm not sure you understand the concept," he teased but she turned on her heel and strode away. This time she didn't turn back.

Once she had gone, he laughed and shook his head. '_I almost forgot how goddamn much that bitch can make me feel.' _He moved to the window and watched her get in her car, start the engine, and pull out of his driveway.

He stared after her, his smile faded, and he took another bite of his apple. '_Jesus Fucking Christ, do I miss her!'_


	9. Chapter 9

He had successfully avoided her for quite some time, but then there she stood, waiting for him, just as he exited the school. As soon as Logan spotted Veronica, he started to turn back inside, but then he realized she'd just follow him.

With his hands on his head in mock surrender, Logan approached her as if she were begging for something. And he hoped his lewd comments would distract her or if not, at least cut their conversation short.

"Okay, I'll relent, just once. But, uh, no cuddling after and I won't call you in the morning," he said as he shrugged his shoulders in a feigned gesture of apology.

Veronica ignored him and got right to her point. "Saturday, September 24th. It was a 2 minute and 23 second phone call on Weevil's cell phone made from your house. The caller claimed that Curly Moran was responsible for the bus crash. The same Curly Moran who's friends with your dad. Any explanation?"

'_Holy shit! This is rich! She didn't learn not to blame me the first time? Well, what the hell! Let's have a little fun. Might as well, right?' _

"My day is complete. Veronica Mars has accused me of evil." He couldn't resist accompanying his little speech with an exaggerated twirl of his imaginary mustache. He might as well have been auditioning for the part of the villainous cad in some cheesy melodrama. "Hmm, where to start?"

Briefly, Logan considered playing along, helping her out, if he could only figure out what it was she needed to know, but then he thought, '_No. Just NO. This is bullshit. I have no idea what she's talking about anyway!'_

"Oh yes," he said, looking at her pointedly, "Who the _hell _is Curly Moran and how do you know he knows my dad and what conspiracy theory have you pulled out of your ass this time?" By the time Logan finished, he could barely hide his smirk, getting some sort of twisted enjoyment out of engaging with her in this way.

'_God do I love those stupid fucking conspiracy theories. I never know what she'll come up with next.'_

"The _fact,_ evidenced by the poster in _your_ house, is that Curly Moran was the stunt coordinator on _The Long Haul, _starring Aaron Echolls circa 1982." Veronica paused a moment which gave him long enough to think, '_So that's what she was doing in my downstairs hall.' _

The time for speculation had passed. She started to speak again. "Now, September 24th?"

"Like I have any idea wha - " he began and then something started to nag at him. '_Fuck. That date sounds familiar. Why is that?' _"Wait, I think I do remember." Logan started digging in his book bag. "That was the night," he found a wrinkled sheet of paper, pulled it out and showed it to her, "of my _Life's Short Party._"

"Of course," Veronica said with disdain, "A group of lower middle class Neptune High students plummet to their death and the 09ers throw a party."

'_Judgmental bitch. That party was my only way to celebrate the fact that you weren't dead. Not that you'll ever know that. Yet another bit of breaking news that scared me shitless when I heard it from someone other than you.'_

"Hence the life's short part," Logan said in annoyance as he stuffed the paper back in his bag. "It was in their honor and in the end, it wasn't just your social betters. In fact, your pal Weevil and his biker boys crashed it."

Hitching up his bag higher on his shoulder, he readied himself to walk away. Then he remembered something and turned back. '_Aw hell. Pretenses be damned.'_

"Oh, and, uh...Lamb and a half dozen deputies came by to break it up. Or at least collect the kegs."

"There were five numbers registered to your house. This call came from a number I don't recognize," Veronica persisted.

'_Are you ever gonna trust me? I just tried to help! Fuck it. I'm seriously done.'_

"Gee willickers, Veronica, it sounds like you're on to something. Maybe the pool boy did it," He said in his equivalent to a dumb blonde tone. Then he twisted his bare wrist to show her the time on his non-existent wristwatch and walked away. Her implication so annoyed him that he ranted to himself for an hour before taking out his annoyance on a '_kill 'em all'_ video game.

By the time he got to homeroom the next morning, Logan had decided he'd had enough. When someone suggested that Veronica be nominated as homecoming queen, he couldn't help his wisecrack retort, utterly fueled by bitterness. "Veronica Mars, saving the world one pointless act at a time."

A mild debate broke out regarding Veronica's worthiness of the sacred homecoming queen title. As others discussed the attributes and downfalls of Logan's ex-girlfriend, he noticed the new girl sitting in front of him.

She laughed at the descriptions of Veronica's helpfulness. Then she turned and caught his eye, giving him the opportunity to demonstrate for her a closed-lip smile of appreciation. '_Hmmm...I may have discovered a worthy distraction. Get my mind off the exhausting pain in the ass that is Veronica Mars.'_

When they announced the homecoming court in homeroom the next morning, several students around him were bummed that Veronica hadn't been chosen.

Again, Logan couldn't resist the snark. With his most exaggerated look of false sympathy, he offered his condolences. "There's always winter carnival. Veronica can be an ice princess." '_Damn straight,' _he thought, '_She's the fucking queen of being emotionally frozen.'_

To his surprise, the gorgeous girl in front of him faked a gasp and turned toward him enough to ask, "Can we skate on her?"

Smiling, his thoughts raced quickly as he turned on the charm. "I don't remember hearing your name called. Seems like a bit of an oversight." '_Maybe homecoming can be saved after all...going with this tight ass bitch could be fun.'_

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him but he knew his words had found their mark. '_Now, do I ask her to the dance or wait till we're there and sweep her off her feet?'_

By the time the bell rang, he'd slipped her a note with his cell number and left the ball in her court.

On his way to his truck after school, a seemingly unrepentant but newly transformed Duncan accosted him.

"So, I was thinking...you're an emancipated minor, I'm an emancipated minor. Maybe we should get together Thursday night. Chug cough syrup, mug some old ladies," Duncan joked while Logan studied him warily.

"Golly, I don't know. I was thinking about staying home, making a hope quilt for the lonely," Logan rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to look directly at his former best friend. '_What are you up to, Donut? Tossing out an olive branch to ease your guilt? Or wanting to gloat about getting the girl? I don't want to hope that you're really sincere. It would hurt too much if you're not.' _

"A little _Hot Shots_?" Duncan tried coaxing him, "Golf Tourney? Room service?"

'_Fuck. Maybe he really is trying to re-kindle our sadly strained friendship.'_

"All right. You're on," Logan replied with a small yet vulnerable and appreciative smile. '_What the hell. It's worth a try, anyway.'_

Logan spent the week keeping himself busy and staying out of trouble. By the time Thursday night arrived, he couldn't wait for some company other than his own.

Things between Duncan and him seemed almost normal as they settled down to start their game. Duncan teased him about his video game prowess while giving a cheesy speech.

"Ya know, this visit is all about mending fences, building bridges…and I'm afraid that my waxing your ass just isn't going to help."

Logan guffawed in disbelief, then responded confidently, "You talk it. Let's see you walk it."

Their tournament lasted a couple hours before Duncan suggested they watch TV while they ate dinner. Without waiting for Logan to answer, he grabbed the remote and turned it on, flipping through the channels. He stopped abruptly when he saw a stage with none other than Veronica Mars seated on it.

"Dude, what the hell? Why is Veronica talking to a psychic?" Logan commented, sitting back on the floor, grabbing for the remote so he could turn the sound up.

"No idea," Duncan shrugged, elbows on his knees as he sat forward to listen, "Unless, maybe, it's for a case?"

They listened intently as the psychic droned on and on about Veronica's fictional and deceased Uncle Roger. The longer she talked, the more certain Logan became. '_Veronica's playing this chick.' _

He opened his mouth to make a smartass remark when he heard something completely unexpected.

'_Wait, I am receiving another voice. A young woman. I see...the letter L. She's holding out a flower...a...lily. Lilly?'_

Logan's jaw dropped. He stared at the screen in disbelief. Quickly, he shot a glance at Duncan and saw the expression on his friend's face mirrored his own. '_What the fuck is going on here?!'_

'_She has a message for you.'_

Suddenly, the air in the suite thickened and filled with tension. '_Damn...Veronica looks terrified...this shit must be real! No...no way. It can't be. Can it…?'_

'_She says, you should have stayed away from her boyfriend.'_

Eyes huge, Logan's mouth went dry. He turned to stare at Duncan but Duncan's gaze remained glued to the TV. '_How the hell could she know that? No way Veronica talked to anyone there about me!'_

The show went to commercial but neither of the boys could speak. They sat and they stared uncomfortably until the psychic returned. When she did, she said she had more. Something about an infomercial.

By that point, concern filled Logan. '_If this woman knows about me and Veronica, what else might she bring up?'_

What she said next didn't make a bit of sense but the look of understanding that he watched dawn on Veronica's face told Logan that she'd been had.

The sense of relief that he felt overwhelmed him. The info that broad knew had thrown him off at first. '_But still, how did she know about me and Veronica? Shit. I don't think I want to know.'_

He didn't stay long after that. Things became awkward and he said that he needed to go. When he got home, he tried to settle into bed but his thoughts kept rolling around in his head. '_I've got to stop obsessing over this. What will get my mind off it? Hmm...maybe I'll give that new chick a call.'_

Picking up his phone, he dialed the number he'd found for her. It rang and rang until it finally went to voicemail. While he listened to her lengthy message, he stood and strode across the room, reaching for his open bottle of Jack Daniels.

Tipping the bottle back, Logan took a long draw of the dark amber liquor. Then he smacked his lips and waited for the tone before beginning to talk. '_At least I know I've got the right number...'_

"Your message, dear Nubian Princess, is absurd. It's just so damn long. So long, in fact, that I forgot what I was calling about." He paused. "Oh yes, the fucking homecoming dance. I was going to ask if you would be there. I'm not sure if I'll go but if I do, we should, you know, dance."

With a smirk, he hung up and promptly thought, '_Well well, this should certainly make things interesting. Until now, I wasn't even sure I would go. I guess I just gave myself a reason to make an appearance.'_

Breezing easily through the next day, he determined to give as little thought as possible to Veronica. By the time of the dance, he appeared in a button-down shirt and his favorite suit jacket standing by the refreshment table, looking around the room.

When Jackie arrived, she made her way over to him. Her eyes were glazed and she stumbled a bit. '_Well shit. She's baked. Wonder what the hell she took and if she saved some for me.' _

She told him she'd mixed a few things and she had no more so he shrugged and asked her to dance. The fast number that had been playing quickly faded to something slower. He swayed with her in his arms and tried to make the most of it.

When she kissed him, things weren't so bad at first. But then she wouldn't let go. '_She's stumbling and losing it. Goddamn, she's a total mess. What the fuck am I going to do?'_

Before he could figure anything out, Veronica stalked over, tearing Jackie from his arms. '_Fuck that's hot! Is she jealous?! No...maybe...yes? What the hell do I know!'_

"Jackie. You wanna lock horns with me, duck and charge, but if you think I'm gonna let you break Wallace's heart for sport, you have grossly underestimated my wrath."

'_Ahhh, so, not me. That baller dude she hangs out with. Lucky guy, that Wally,'_ he thought sardonically, a little hurt and disappointed until he heard the next words out of Jackie's mouth and couldn't help his responding smirk.

"God, Veronica, what is your problem? You really can't make up your mind, can you?" She started to move away and then turned around again, "Just...pick...ONE of them. God! How many guys here do you expect to want only you?"

'_Ouch. Score one for Jackie. Volley to Veronica?'_

He saw the look on Veronica's face when she caught sight of Wallace. '_Orrr...not.' _He ducked his head and messed with his buttons, pretending not to have seen. Instead, he tried to alleviate the tension. "So, where's the after-party?"

It didn't work. Veronica still hurried away and Duncan rushed after her. Only Jackie remained. At that point, he would rather have been left alone.


	10. Chapter 10

After homecoming, Logan found himself in need of distraction. He only hung out with Duncan on Thursdays, the one time he could be sure that Veronica wouldn't be around. He couldn't hang out with Dick because Dick knew about his little fling with Kendall and he wasn't quite sure how Dick would react. So Logan was making a habit of ducking and dodging his friend.

Instead of being bored or wallowing, he spent a lot of time with the other 09ers. It paid off, keeping him busy and mostly out of trouble, too. He only got into it with Weevil and the PCHers twice that week and he even got invited to a party at the new mayor's place on election night.

Logan mingled and drank and generally enjoyed himself, until he bumped into Dick. '_Shit.' _He ducked his head and braced himself, waiting for the onslaught that never came.

Instead, Dick simply said, "Dude? My step-mom?"

Unable to meet Dick's eyes, Logan managed an uncomfortable apology. "I am a total piece of crap."

"Better you than the cable guy, I guess," Dick responded, "I'd be lyin' if I said I'd never perved on your mom when she was prancin' around in that hardly there bikini of hers."

Dick might as well have punched Logan in the gut. He didn't say anything, though, just looked at the floor and gave a little nod. '_Fuck, it's a blow but I deserve it.' _It took a few moments for him to quell the hurt and the rage. '_How the hell does he think it's ok to compare Kendall with my MOM? Kendall's barely an adult and like his fourth or fifth step-mom!'_

When he finally calmed himself, he managed to say, "Great. So, no hard feelings?" He just wanted to get out of there but Dick wouldn't let it rest.

All smiles and smarm, Dick punched him in the arm and answered as if it were the greatest joke of all time, "No, she gave me a few."

It made Logan extremely uncomfortable to hear his mom referred to as the object of a lustful teenager's fantasy. But he wasn't about to prolong this conversation by cluing Dick in. Instead, he chose to bite his tongue and walk away.

For the next hour, possibly more, he moved pretty regularly from group to group. After his encounter with Dick, he no longer felt like partying but no way in hell would he go home and mope.

Instead, he made himself disappear in the crowd. Never in his life had he felt so alone. He hated people but they loved him, not that a single damn one of them really knew him. He was sitting in the corner of a sofa thinking about that when one of the sheriff's deputies came through the door.

Moments later, Deputy Sacks approached and said in his Barney Fife manner, "Sheriff would like to have a word with you."

Having had enough of this shit for a lifetime, Logan stared coldly at Sacks and said in annoyance, "And I'd like to be the creme filling in an Olsen twin sandwich. But…"

Sacks tried again, "Will you come with me, please?"

Not just annoyed now but thoroughly pissed off, Logan threw back at him, "If I'm under arrest then do me the favor of making it all official-like." He stood, turned his back, and placed his hands behind him as Sacks shook his head and took out the cuffs.

"Logan Echolls - "

Logan interrupted, his teeth gritted as the metal bit into his wrists, "That's more like it."

"You're under arrest for the murder of Felix Toombs."

Anger and fear mixed together, the one covering the other as Logan said, "Ooh. I am having the weirdest deja vu right now."

Sacks continued with the Miranda. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot find one, you'll be appointed one by the court."

In disbelief, Logan turned to look at Sacks. '_This man must be insane. Why would I need an attorney for this fucking charade? They've already let me go once because they had no evidence!'_

In the squad car on the way to the station, Logan kept up a running dialogue, taunting and tormenting Sacks. Sacks turned up the radio but Logan refused to let himself be tuned out.

"You're such a fucking sheep, Sacks. You have no idea what you're doing."

Eventually, they arrived at the station where Sacks led Logan to Lamb's office. Apparently the election had just been called because the entire office appeared to be partying. Lamb would remain sheriff for another term.

With Logan on a chair in front of Lamb, and Lamb seated on the edge of the desk, the newly re-elected sheriff cleared his throat and began his questioning.

"Now, you wanna tell me again what happened on that bridge? I've just received some new information."

Logan repeated everything he'd said before, still omitting the information about the delivery driver. Lamb looked like he was about to gloat but Sacks interrupted to tell him he had a phone call.

After motioning for Sacks to take a message, Lamb smirked and told Logan, "And here I thought you were smart, kid. Well, buddy, we've got a witness. The good kind. Dr. Thomas Griffith just informed us that he saw you on that bridge and watched you kill Felix."

'_Oh please. Since when can a delivery driver be mistaken for a doctor? Not a chance! Who the hell does this fucking idiot think he is?'_ He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the ridiculous remark, then stated dryly, "He's lying. No clue why. Don't particularly care, either."

"Well then," Lamb said, appearing as if he had taken Logan's words as a personal challenge, "Let's put you in a line-up and see what happens."

Next thing Logan knew, he stood with several other guys of varying height and style. He waited patiently, unmoving, not quite sure what to expect. Somehow, though, it came as no surprise when he heard through the speaker system, "Number four, step forward."

'_Of course. What a fucking farce.' _He stepped forward even as his mind raced. '_Guess I'd better give a damn fine performance.'_

"Oh, wow! I'm just stunned." One hand grasped the other in front of him, a fake smile plastered to his face, "You like me! You REALLY like me!" His bravado managed to cover the fear and the pain.

"Well first, I'd just like to say to the other nominees," he went on, "you are all such wonderfully gifted criminals," he paused a moment to glance at each one, "And I want to thank my agent, my publicist, for always shooting me from the left side." He tapped his chin on the left and grinned.

A deputy came up to him then and said, "Let's go."

"Hmm," he said as the deputy led him off. He just loved the irony of it. '_Goddamn. I'm a fucking fantastic thespian. I almost convinced myself that I don't give a shit about this mess. Daddy Dearest would be so proud.' _

Outside the booking office, Lamb re-joined him. Logan seethed when he saw the man's smug smile. He wanted to punch Lamb when he dared to tell him, "You might want to get a lawyer."

Lifting both hands and motioning around him, Logan could barely control himself as he again scoffed, "What? For this charade? Just give me the first sober public defender you find in the hall. Put the bail on my black AmEx and call me a limo."

"Actually, buddy," Lamb said in triumph, "it's kinda hard to get bail without a hearing. And even if you make it before a judge, I draw a lot of water in town and I got this feeling you might just get declared a flight risk."

'_What the fuck…?' _ Logan sat forward, brows raised and forehead wrinkled in surprise. "Hmm?" '_How the hell can he manage that?!'_

After he was booked, a deputy took him to an interrogation room and left him alone to await whatever attorney the court appointed. Sitting there waiting, he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The longer he sat there with nothing but his own thoughts for company, the more his imagination began to run wild with unpleasant possibilities.

'_This can't be happening. Not when I'm innocent. Tell me this isn't karma coming to kick my ass!'_

By the time the lawyer arrived, Logan had nearly fallen asleep. His head rested on his arm when a slick and smarmy but familiar attorney opened the door. '_That's the guy Veronica asked to help me last time...' _

His lawyer walked in with what looked like a somewhat pitying smile. He set his briefcase on the table and sat across from Logan. In response, Logan folded his hands on the table in front of him and looked at the guy with a guarded but slightly hopeful acknowledgment of recognition.

'_Still, better not to show my hand when I don't know what cards have been dealt. Need to come up with something snarky to say…well, he was fucking late and I'm definitely annoyed about that. Who did he think he was dealing with?' _

"So, my tax dollars at work." Logan said the first thing that came to his mind. When he received no response, he continued, "Where were you? Getting thirds at the crazy girls lunch buffet?" He propped his elbows on the table and rested his head on his still-clasped hands.

In a move that impressed even Logan, the man across from him didn't miss a single beat. "Actually, they discontinued the buffet. Some health code thing." The attorney then opened up his notebook and gave his typical shpiel as if they'd never met before. "Okay, my name is Cliff. I'll be your if-you-cannot-afford-an-attorney attorney."

Without giving Logan time to respond, Cliff then got down to business, "So, what are you trying to prove?"

His brows rose and his forehead wrinkled as it had earlier. Rather snidely, he replied, "Um, my innocence?"

"No, I mean with this poor little rich boy stunt," Cliff stated plainly, not bothering to beat around the bush.

'_That's the same thing Veronica said to me.'_ That fact made Logan bristle.

Before Logan could defend himself, Cliff had moved on, "Having me represent you doesn't make you look innocent. It makes you look like an arrogant jackass. If the witness's story holds, you ARE going to trial."

Still annoyed, Logan pretended to nod thoughtfully for a moment. "Mm-Hmm..." Then he narrowed his gaze at Cliff. "The guy's lying."

Cliff took out his notes and read, "June 27th, you gave testimony saying you couldn't remember a thing."

Closing his eyes, Logan thought, '_Shit, well that lie came back to bite me in the ass.' _

But Cliff had already continued. "Now he comes forward saying he saw you, bloody knife in hand, ranting like a maniac over a dead body."

Logan responded forcefully, "And what exactly did I say, huh?"

Again, Cliff began to read. "The expletive racial expletive had it maternal expletive coming. But wait! There's more. You then threatened to use your father's money to have said witness killed. Now, true or not, Logan, the Echolls name will not buy you a lot of jury love. Not to me-" Cliff's phone rang and interrupted him.

Reaching for his inside pocket after lifting a finger to signal Logan to wait, the lawyer answered it. "It's Cliff."

Logan looked bored but he listened to his attorney's side of the conversation, wondering who had called him.

"No can do. I'm right in the middle - "

'_What does this person want him to do? Hello! Dude, you're supposed to be focused on me right now! HANG UP THE PHONE!'_

"I owe you? Who unconfiscated all your fake college IDs?"

'_Ok, this is getting interesting...fake IDs? I could benefit from a new one of those…'_

"Well, who helped put the lien against Lee's Walk-in Donut?"

'_What the - ?! I don't even want to know about that...'_

Logan noted when Cliff sighed in defeat.

"All right. Who am I calling and what am I giving them?" Cliff grabbed a scrap piece of paper and jotted down a note before he said, "Right." He then hung up and started dialing again. He looked at Logan and held up another finger. "Just…"

Impatient but helpless to do anything about it, Logan rolled his eyes.

Then Cliff began again, this time in a harried voice. "Hello? My…my daughter's disappeared. She left her husband and ran off with some wild girlfriend."

Watching closely, Logan started to figure things out.

Cliff spoke in a rush and the more he said, the more sure Logan became that his idea about who had called had been accurate.

"I think they got into some kind of trouble but I'm sure it's not her fault. The police said they were headed to Mexico but no one's seen them."

Eyes filled with admiration in spite of himself, Logan smirked. '_He's doing this for Veronica. I'm sure of it. Clever bitch has practically the whole town wrapped around her little finger.'_

"I just need to know if she's ok. Please, could you tell me if she's used her card?" After a brief pause, Cliff repeated, "uhh...09223346."

With a grin, Logan asked, "Isn't that Thelma and Louise?"

Cliff glared at him, then said into the phone, "Can you email that? VMars at AOL dot com. Thank you. Bless you." Finally, Cliff hung up.

Unable to keep himself from commenting, Logan completely deadpanned, "That daughter of yours sounds like a real handful."

Without apologizing, Cliff responded, "This...is what I'm good at. Murky murder cases...nah. Now Lamb wants to keep you here supposedly to ease community tensions, but really it's 'cause he's mean. Now, do the smart thing and put daddy's money to work and get a real lawyer. Or three."

Without another word, Cliff got up and walked out.


	11. Chapter 11

Lamb burst into the interrogation room, pulling Logan to his feet and leading him out into the corridor, down several hallways until they arrived at a door that would take them to lock-up. Trying to look as cool and unaffected as he could manage, Logan glanced back at Lamb with a glare before the sheriff placed him in a cell. A metallic clang sounded, signaling that the door had been closed and locked behind him.

"So, um, when do I get my conjugal visit?" Logan asked. His words were joking but in the back of his mind he thought, '_I could seriously use some form of release about now...'_

Lamb smirked in response, raising a red flag for Logan while bringing up every last one of his defenses. The man appeared entirely too pleased with himself and his words caused even more confusion. "It's up to your new roommate."

Logan looked around but then an all-too-familiar voice stopped him and he froze.

"Logan?"

'_Oh shit. Are you fucking kidding me?! What the hell is he doing here?'_

Slowly, he turned, unable to hide the look of horror on his face. It wasn't until his father spoke that he snapped out of it.

"What are you doing here?"

Shaken but more on edge and defensive than anything, Logan responded, "Come on, pops, jail's where they put accused murderers. You remember that crap from the summer." Brows raised, forehead wrinkled, he gave his father a pointed look. "Why are you here?"

"They transferred me out of county this morning. I guess our sheriff has a soft spot for family," Aaron commented before he attempted to take control of the conversation, "Well! At least I know what it takes to get a visit out of you. Those special times with your emancipation paperwork don't really count."

The muscles in Logan's jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with growing anger, "I just need a little time to work through how you bashed my girlfriend's skull in."

Calmly, almost as if he were talking to an errant child, Aaron said, "Logan. I made an unforgivable mistake. But I am NOT a murderer."

Logan exploded. "Oh, so you merely plowed my girlfriend and taped it for your home collection."

"I don't expect any sympathy from you," Aaron said with such calm and lack of emotion that Logan wanted to punch him.

Instead, he bit back bitter tears and spit out, "That's good," in response. '_You'll never get any sympathy from me, you motherfucking psycho.' _Logan's fists were clenched as he tried to control himself.

Unfortunately, Aaron wasn't done. In fact, to Logan's dismay, he was apparently just getting started.

"You, you have no idea what actually happened that day," he began dramatically.

Having walked over to the barred window, Logan looked over his shoulder at his father and scoffed, "Pop, I have a pretty good idea."

Hastily, Aaron shook his head and disagreed, "No no. Keith Mars got it partly right, yeah, ok. Lilly and I fought and I followed her home, but not to hurt her, I swear to God."

Logan couldn't believe how much his father seemed to relish the opportunity to dust off and demonstrate his loathsome acting chops.

Still, Aaron prattled on, "Duncan found us. He must have heard everything because he was furious. He was out of his mind. I mean, he was ranting and raving - "

Unable to take it anymore, Logan cut him off. "So, what, Duncan killed Lilly?" He turned slowly from the window to face his father, eyeing him with disbelief. "Wow!"

Aaron opened his hands in a gesture meant to portray innocence. "All I know is I got out. The next thing, it was all over the news."

'_Whatever. There's no fucking way I'm letting him think he can explain everything away that easily.'_

Every muscle in Logan's body tensed, ready for action. He stared his father down, refusing to blink as he added disdainfully to the previous accusation, "So you tried to kill another girl. Also a girlfriend of mine. What, to maintain your innocence?"

Obviously trying to look innocent, Aaron confessed, "I just snapped. Logan, I lost it. But - " He stopped when Logan shook his head and laughed, turning to look back out the barred window. He had a hint of despair in his tone when he started again, "You don't believe me. Why should the jury believe me?" He sighed and shook his head. "Maybe my life is over."

With a shrug, Logan responded, too tired to even show any emotion, "Yeah, maybe."

Aaron started again immediately, this time taking a different track. "But you shouldn't throw yours away just to spite me. Come on, Logan. Let me help you. Let me call some guys down at the firm." He sounded eager now. The ever-doting father.

"They gave me a lawyer," Logan said both defensively and dismissively.

Scoffing, Aaron stated, "I mean a real lawyer. Not some public defender with a mail order diploma and a $300 suit."

Both men had been so absorbed in their own conversation that they had missed Cliff's arrival. They turned toward the main corridor when they heard, "Two for $500, actually, but your point remains valid." Cliff paused, pointing at Logan after looking him over, "You, you got bail. Let's go."

Surprised beyond measure, Logan couldn't help his stuttering words, "Bail? Wha- How? You sa-you said - "

Cliff interrupted him to explain, "Jeff Bloom and I go to the same gym. I'll be billing you for a case of cohibas and a 4-handed Thai massage. There's also the matter of a two-hundred thousand dollar bond. So, chip, how 'bout you thank me by taking the old block's advice? Get a new lawyer."

Logan paused to think, then responded sincerely, "Well...you're kinda winning me over."

It seemed to take forever to get through the 'debriefing' where Logan got his things back. Before long, though, he found himself sitting smugly in the back of Lamb's cop car, his hands clasped behind his head. He couldn't resist the urge to push the sheriff's buttons.

"Best thing about two days in jail? Two days worth of Ellen on the Tivo. That's a sweet feeling."

Lamb barely acknowledged him and instead he asked with a frown, "What's your address again?"

They pulled up to the Echolls estate where chaos had broken out. Red and blue lights had spread an ominous glow into the night. More than one type of siren sounded loudly into the chilled evening air. Billowing smoke blurred the view and made Logan choke. Rescue workers were everywhere.

Utter terror ran along every nerve of Logan's body making him feel like a stranger in his own skin. '_What the fuck?! Who the hell would do this?' _He'd already lost so much. Now what little he had left was gone. Vanished with the flames and billowing smoke. '_Who could be this cruel? Is there really someone who hates me this much?'_ A name came to mind. It was the only one that made sense. '_Weevil.' _ It had to be him. No one else would dare.

In spite of the situation, Lamb looked over his car and smirked at Logan, "That's gonna mess up your Tivo."

At that point, Logan didn't even care. He wove his way through the crowd and the barriers, telling anyone who tried to stop him, "That's my house."

By the time he made it to the gated entrance and could see the damage firsthand, it was clear that every memento, every small reminder of anything good that had ever happened to him had vanished, buried beneath the rubble.

"Holy shit…" he breathed as he looked on, what felt like a brick weighing down his gut. Numb and disoriented, he could only think, '_What now?'_

Somehow, his truck had been salvaged. After answering a million and one questions and what seemed like forever, the authorities released it to him and allowed him to leave. Their condolences and sympathies didn't even register.

He sat at the wheel, almost like he had once before, wondering to himself where he should go and what he should do. The last time he'd found himself in a messed up situation, things had been different. Going to Veronica was no longer an option. Instead, he made his way to the Grand and the only person he could think of who might not turn him away.

Outside Duncan's door, Logan took a moment to try to pull himself together. He'd seen his reflection in the elevator door, and the only word that had come to mind was'_disheveled'_. He knocked on the door, stood back, and held his breath. '_Please don't let Veronica be here. Please don't let Veronica be here.' _No way in hell could he handle seeing her just then.

Several moments later, Duncan answered the door. He looked shocked when he took in his friend's appearance in spite of the efforts Logan had made to make himself more presentable.

"What the hell happened to you?" Duncan asked incredulously.

His voice rough and raw, Logan responded, "Mind if I come in?"

Duncan swung the door open and ushered Logan past him. Logan made his way to the couch and took a seat. He rested his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and mumbled, "I'm fucked."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Duncan asked, still standing as he waited for an answer.

"It means," Logan started, too tired to sound distraught, "Not only do I have another arrest on my record, not only do I have to try to figure out who wants me to go down for murder and why, but my house has been reduced to ash and rubble. Everything I own but the clothes on my back is gone."

His words were met with silence as he looked down at his open and empty hands.

Finally, Duncan moved to sit beside him on the couch, putting a hand on his shoulder as he said, "You'll stay here. You can borrow some of my stuff till you can get yours replaced. We emancipated minors have to stick together."

Relieved and not willing to argue, Logan nodded and glanced up as he said, "I'm exhausted, man. As long as you're sure about this, where can I crash?"

Duncan showed him to the second master bedroom, brought him a towel and a change of clothes, then left him alone. In five minutes flat, Logan was dead to the world.

Logan woke the next morning feeling refreshed. He took a look at the clothes Duncan had left for him and shook his head with a laugh of disbelief. '_No fucking way am I wearing this preppy-ass shit in public. No offense, bro, but this calls for a trip to the department store with my black AmEx. School will have to wait.'_

By lunch, Logan was back at the top of his game. He sat at a table outside next to Dick where he lifted his foot to the bench and showed off his ankle monitor. They'd been talking for quite some time and Dick was just soaking it all in.

"...and the other sweet thing is that I'm in constant video contact with Martha Stewart, right? Kinda like a Dick Tracy kinda thing."

Dick gave him a look of awe and slapped him on the back while Weevil approached from behind them.

The bald biker held up a paper and demanded, "Hey! What the hell is this?"

Snatching the paper from Weevil's hand and scanning it, Logan said, "Hmm...Ichsta? Una?" He turned to Dick and asked disdainfully, "What is their word for paper?"

Immediately, Dick responded, "Pay-pair-o?"

Anger boiled beneath the surface but Logan held himself together as he pretended to be helpful. "Ok, I'll translate. Just don't tell the ESL teacher that I helped you cheat. That's an eviction notice."

In disbelief, Weevil asked, "You bought my grandmother's house?"

Logan smirked victoriously as he looked up at the person he was sure had burned down his house. "That's right. Su casa is mi casa. But in my defense, Weevil. I do need a new one. You might have heard that my former domicile was burned, quite unexpectedly."

It was Weevil's turn to get angry and he started to threaten, "If you kick my family ou-"

Interrupting him, Logan said almost gleefully, "Oh, have it your way. We'll all live together. One big wacky sitcom family. On second thought, I'm kicking you out. And on third thought, I wouldn't live in that roach motel if you put a gun to my-"

Weevil whacked the pizza that Logan had been about to take a bit of right from his hand, splattering sauce on Logan's face.

On his feet in an instant, Logan whirled around and said menacingly, "I was enjoying that."

Through gritted teeth, Weevil said, getting in Logan's face, "Not as much as I'm gonna enjoy this."

Accepting the challenge, Logan glared back, "Oh yeah? Yeah?"

Weevil pushed Logan, causing him to take a step back.

After blocking a couple hits, Logan pushed the leader of the PCHers back.

Before things could go any further, a teacher who had seen what was happening stepped between them and said, "Hey hey, break it up. Come on, guys. School's not the place for this kind of thing."

From several feet away, Logan sneered, "You hear that? School is a place of learning."

Not to be deterred, Weevil came back at him threateningly with, "You might wanna think of what prison is a place of."

When classes were dismissed, Logan headed to the beach. He needed some time to think and de-stress. He always kept his wetsuit and surfboard in the back of his truck so after a couple hours of sun and waves, he felt much more relaxed.

Arriving back at the Grand, he showered off the salt water and, having no plans to go back out, he dressed in Duncan's ridiculously preppy argyle sweater. Checking his image in the mirror, he scoffed at himself and shook his head. '_Nice gesture and all but damn, this thing is fucking ugly.' _

Since his roommate hadn't arrived yet, Logan lay down on the couch with a magazine and quickly fell asleep.

He woke again when he heard the door to the suite open. He figured it was Duncan so he didn't bother moving. '_Don't really feel like being sociable at the moment...best bud or not.'_

Next thing he knew, though, he felt a familiar petite form lying on top of him. Unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around her and settled in for a wholly contented single, solitary moment.

If it hadn't been for his wicked sense of irony, he would have stayed quiet and simply enjoyed himself. Instead, he felt compelled to speak up.

His voice dripping with amusement, he said, "It's the sweater, isn't it?"

The magazine was immediately lifted from his face. He stared mockingly into her deep blue eyes and went deadpan. "Chicks can't resist argyle."

Obviously flustered and indignant but trying to hide it, Veronica demanded petulantly, "Please let go of me."

As she got up, Logan sat up as well and said, completely unrepentant, "Ever the tease."

Before Veronica could say anything further, Duncan entered from his bedroom, and when he saw them there he stopped, looking guilty.

"What is he doing here?" Veronica asked in her most accusatory manner.

Standing up, Logan answered for himself. "Aw, didn't ya hear? I'm out of house. I live here now." He brushed past Veronica and headed toward his room.

He hadn't yet closed his door when he heard Duncan say, "Sorry I didn't tell ya."

'_Something tells me this little situation is likely to turn hella awkward...and fast.'_


	12. Chapter 12

As if it had been prophesied, when Logan walked into the suite a couple of days later, he found Duncan and Veronica making out on the couch. To make his presence known in the hopes that they would cease their face sucking, he slammed the door shut, tossed his keys on the ledge by the door, and dropped his backpack.

"Where's my martini and why don't I smell pot roast?" he wise-cracked when the noise he'd provided didn't manage to break the couple apart. '_That oughta do the trick.'_

The pair jumped back and turned their eyes to the television screen, their expressions somewhere between guilty and embarrassed. '_There. Task number one accomplished. Good job, Logan. Now it's on to task number two. _

Steeling himself for an afternoon with his best friend and his ex, Logan's mind spun with ideas. Somehow, some way, he planned to make being a third wheel into an art form. He had every intention of turning that little cliche on its head.

Before heading to the couch, he bought himself some time. Removing his jacket and draping it across the chair, he took a deep mental breath and slouched down comfortably beside Veronica.

"Hey, you're watching _The Big Lebowski_. Why didn't you wait for me?"

Duncan responded in a somewhat repressed tone. "I didn't know when you were coming home."

Not to be put off, Logan continued to deliberately push Duncan's buttons. It could never be said that the two weren't competitive. "Well, you know, when you asked me to move in, I thought it was because you wanted to spend more time together."

Obviously understanding the game, Veronica glared at Logan and interjected, "You just missed the supermarket scene."

Before he could say anything more, a knock sounded at the door. "And there's my room service."

He pushed himself up and headed to the door but before he was even halfway there, he turned and forcefully shoved the giant elephant in the room out of the closet. "Seriously, though. I was reading _Third Wheel: A Beginner's Guide _and we should come up with some kind of code word for when you two are feeling frisky and, uh, don't wanna be disturbed."

Veronica's head jerked toward Logan, her words a challenge. "Like 'scram'?"

"I was thinking 'awkward'," Logan countered, changing his tone to one that would grate on every one of Veronica's nerves, "But scram's good. Or am-scray."

Without waiting for a response, he turned to open the door to someone who was, as it turned out, definitely not room service.

"You're not my grilled cheese," he stated to Kendall with a flourish.

She shook her head and said, "Noooo," before sashaying through the entryway.

A rather high-pitched, "Hmm," of appreciation was Logan's response as he watched her walk past, mentally rubbing his hands at Kendall's perfect timing. '_Oh can I have some fun with this.'_

Inhaling deeply through his nose, he rapidly contemplated the numerous possibilities.

Kendall stopped in her tracks and made things even more interesting while Logan stood behind her, amused.

"iPod girl. With the waxy-eared boyfriend," Kendall remarked, "Small world."

Logan wondered what Kendall meant by that remark as he noted the guilty look on Veronica's face.

"Like thiiis big," came Veronica's response as she held her thumb and forefinger extremely close together to emphasize her point.

Knowing it would irk Veronica, and that she was watching, Logan pointedly glanced down at Kendall's ass and waggled his eyebrows as the vivacious vixen sauntered by him and headed toward his room.

He started to follow her, then stopped. Narrowing his eyes at Veronica, he smugly got in one last dig. "_**My**_ code word will be...endurance." '_Something you could have found out for yourself if you hadn't left me.' _He gave her a finger wave and another raise of his eyebrows, turned on his heel and left the room.

As he entered his bedroom, though, his mind was racing. '_What was that flicker of uncertainty I saw in Veronica's eyes?'_

Kendall, as expected, was already posing on his bed like some _Victoria's Secret _model minus the lingerie. He took her in appreciatively and stepped closer as he tried desperately to push thoughts of Veronica from his mind.

Stripping unceremoniously with Kendall's help, he knelt on the edge of the bed with a wide grin. Before he could make a move, however, he found himself distracted by a muted conversation coming from the other room.

'_Did Veronica just refuse to go back to making out with Duncan?' _ It was a novel concept, especially if one were to consider that her rejection had been provoked by him.

The look on Logan's face became triumphant and predatory, eliciting a squeal of anticipation from Kendall as she waited for him to pounce.

More and more sure of what he'd heard, he replayed the last few minutes in the living room over and over in his mind even as he rolled around on the bed with Kendall.

'_She must not be as indifferent to me as she'd like to be.' _He attacked his fuck-toy with fervor, relishing the thought. '_Now that is something I can work with.'_

The next day during FBLA, Logan was significantly distracted. His thoughts had turned toward staying out of jail. It was bad enough that they had him on a leash. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his freedom for good. Especially when he didn't deserve it.

What he needed was help from Veronica. But to make that happen he needed a plan, and to formulate a plan required him to think about the reasons he found himself in his current situation.

He'd spiraled when he'd lost his friends, his family, his home. He'd pissed off the PCHers, been accused of murder, and now he was being framed. Nothing he'd done had helped him and now his options for assistance were limited. There was no one left to bail him out or give a damn what happened to him. Except Veronica. If he could just convince her to take an interest in his life, his well-being, again.

While his brain was occupied traveling this depressing path, contemplating how alone he was, his fingers absently twisted and twirled his pen around each digit and across his knuckles. He barely heard a word that Mr. Pope said.

"You're in the pink. You're in the red. You're on top of the world. You're sleeping in the gutter without a penny to your name," Mr. Pope lectured as he walked around the room.

'_Fucking ridiculous. On top of the world or in the gutter. Who fucking cares? I'd give a shitload of money to have one goddamn person actually believe in me.'_ It was something he'd wanted his entire life and something he'd had only once, briefly, with Veronica. But she'd left him. She'd given up on him when he needed her most.

He knew he could seriously benefit from some time away from his own company. His thoughts were becoming even more dark and haunting than usual. Never a good thing. Definitely not conducive to his survival.

Who the hell was he supposed to hang out with, though? Duncan hadn't been Duncan since before Lilly died and while their friendship was tentatively still intact, his friend had been conspicuously absent since before they'd become roommates. Something told him that there was more to it than just the awkwardness over Veronica.

'_And cool with it or not, hanging out with Dick while I'm banging Kendall just isn't going to happen.' _

In that moment, he ached for what he'd had in Veronica. A friend before she'd been a girlfriend, she understood him better than anyone. '_How fucking pathetic. The pint-sized pest who's crushed my heart twice is the only person I've ever been able to rely on.'_

His stream of consciousness was briefly interrupted by a voice he barely heard. "Mr. Echolls…" A moment later, he heard his name again. "Oh, Mr. Echolls."

The rest of what Mr. Pope said went ignored.

Sensing a comment was expected, Logan kept with the theme of his thoughts, giving himself a pep talk. "I'm not worried. I tend to bounce back." The words were said with conviction but he couldn't help but wonder how much he really meant them. '_One day, my ability to bounce will break. But goddammit, today better not be that day. I've GOT to get Veronica to help me.'_

After the following period, Logan placed an '_Out of Order'_ sign on the door to the girls' bathroom, the one he knew Veronica typically used as an office. He leaned against the counter, the sinks and mirrors at his back, and waited nervously for Veronica. '_This had better work.'_

He missed her, yeah, but right now, he needed her more. The murder charge wouldn't just go away, not with a supposed eyewitness involved. And regardless of their differences and more recent history, Logan knew Veronica believed him when he said he had never murdered anyone.

When the doors opened and Veronica stepped in, he found that the temptation to remind her of the last time they'd met in that very spot was simply too compelling to resist.

"Hey, uh, you remember when we made out against the sink and you had your legs wrapped around my waist?" It was a very vivid memory, one that he conjured frequently. Pretty much every time he '_gave himself a hand'_. The thought of it now made him smile. Helpfully, he twisted his fingers in a gesture that mimicked her thighs squeezing his hips while her body clung to him.

Clearly not amused, Veronica said dryly, "Stop. You'll make me blush."

Unable to resist poking the bear, Logan moved closer to her, clasped his hands in front of him, and leaned down just a bit so that they were at eye level. "Honestly? How much easier would your life be if you were indifferent to me?"

Her response was immediate but her sarcasm didn't matter. He knew his comments had hit their mark.

"So much since I'm really struggling. What do you want?" With her bag tucked over her shoulder, she looked ready to head for the door.

'_It's time to get serious.'_

Everything in his demeanor completely changed. "I don't know if you noticed that I got arrested? Super fun." He waited a beat for her to acknowledge that she knew, then he continued. "This guy came forward saying he was the 9-1-1 caller the night that Felix got killed. And he's attempting to ruin my life." He paused. '_Here we go.' _ He took a deep breath before he added, "I thought maybe you could do a little sleuthing for old times' sake."

Veronica hadn't looked at him the entire time he was talking but when he finished, she looked up at him with an annoyed glare. "Really? Could I?"

Now angry himself and feeling defensive, Logan blurted as if his words held a razor-sharp edge, "But why would you, right?"

Veronica stubbornly gave a single shake of her head, her eyes filled with blue flames.

Logan stepped back, ready to walk away. '_Of course. I had to be dreaming or lying to myself to think she would help. She doesn't give a damn about me anymore.' _When he spoke, his words were bitter. "Hey, at least I got to enjoy asking you for help."

He turned and had almost reached the door when Veronica's exasperated voice stopped him.

"Old times' sake? Give me something I can work with."

'_Woman is like a goddamn yo-yo but, hell, maybe she doesn't hate me after all.'_

"The witness said I threatened him." Logan walked toward her, his expression sharp and earnest. "He's setting me up. I need to know why."

Without waiting even a heartbeat, Veronica asked, "What's his name?"

"Griffith," Logan replied, "I don't know anything more than that."

She visibly softened, her eyes sympathetic, and she nodded to indicate that she'd made a mental note of the information. 'I'll see what I can do."

Logan reached for Veronica's shoulders and gave them a warm squeeze, telling her sincerely, "Thanks, Veronica. I knew I could count on you."

After quirking what appeared to be a genuinely affectionate smile his way, Veronica walked out and left him. A few beats later, he followed on her heels, just in time to see her get intercepted by Duncan.

At lunch the next day, Veronica informed him that she had something for him but she couldn't go over it at school. They agreed to meet that night at the Fuller's house after the kid Veronica was babysitting went to bed.

'_Must be for a job. No way would Veronica babysit otherwise.'_

Too agitated to sit still, Logan arrived early. He bounced on the balls of his feet and knocked on the sliding glass door off the living room. A minute or so later, just when he was about to knock again, the blinds moved aside and he saw that Veronica had the phone to her ear. "I said 10:30," she whispered loudly through the glass.

Instead of retreating, Logan casually looked around behind him and swung his arms lightly, waiting for Veronica to make her move.

Veronica disappeared for a few moments before she came back and finally let him in. She had grabbed her book bag and when they were seated side by side in the den, she pulled out a folder and handed it to him.

"Your 9-1-1 caller, a.k.a. Tom Griffith, is Dr. Tom Griffith. He is a very expensive, well-respected plastic surgeon," she said as he flipped through the papers.

"I don't believe it," Logan said jokingly as he looked over at her, "There are no respected plastic surgeons." '_Shit. Should have left that one alone.' _ He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down to study a picture. He lifted his head and said definitively, "It's not him."

"Sure it is," Veronica responded, "Dr. Tom Griffith. It says it there, right on the picture." She pointed to the label helpfully.

"That's not the guy from the bridge," Logan stated again, this time more clearly. He would be in trouble with her for sure, but this was huge.

"What are you talking about?" Veronica asked sharply, "You told the police you couldn't identify the guy. You said the whole night was a blur." Her words were concise, her tone sure, but at the same time he could tell she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He let it. "I lied," he stated matter-of-factly.

Veronica turned away but not before saying in exasperation, "Of course you did."

In that moment, he couldn't tell if she was more annoyed or disappointed. That knot in his stomach twisted and wrenched at his gut. '_I should have told her the truth from the beginning.'_

Whether to defend himself or provide her with an explanation, he found himself saying, "Well, I didn't want the guy found. Ya know, I didn-I didn't know what he was gonna say. I knew I was free and clear if they never found him." As he spoke, his hand gestures became more wild and erratic. That more than anything articulated just how much he wanted her to believe him.

Without any warning, Veronica leaped off the couch and pushed Logan toward the door. "You have to go."

Not about to lose his opportunity, Logan insisted, "I need your help. The guy's lying."

Practically panicked, Veronica headed out of the room and called back to him over her shoulder, "GO!"

With a frustrated huff of breath and the file in his hands, Logan turned toward the glass door and let himself out. When he slipped around to the front, he saw a car in the drive. '_Ah...I guess I shouldn't take it personally after all that she kicked me out with no warning.'_

An hour or so later, though, he received a text.

'_I'll check into your plastic surgeon and let you know what I find.'_

Satisfied and relieved, Logan released a heavy breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding. He debated briefly on how to answer but in the end, he simply typed: '_Thanks.'_

The next time he heard from Veronica was via a voicemail, a message she left while he was otherwise occupied with Kendall.

His skin glistened as he flopped back on his bed, a satisfied smirk on his face. '_When nothing else is going right in your life, it's always nice to know you can still get laid. There is no better way to release some fucking tension.'_

He started to sit up and disentangle himself per their usual unspoken agreement, but Kendall pushed him back down and tried to snuggle. "That was perfect, baby." Every sound of every word was completely disingenuous and elicited a doubletake from Logan. '_Fuck.'_

"Uhhh. So good to be with you. I just want to be with you all the time," she continued with a counterfeit purr.

Logan looked at her with disgust and said sardonically, "A bit of advice. When looking for a sugar daddy, at least pick the richest guy in the hotel suite."

That got her attention. She sat up fast, an expression of shock and horror on her face.

Her little act aroused a deep feeling of indifference within Logan, and he gave her a small smile of amusement. "I'm sorry, does that hurt your feelings?"

"I can't believe you just said that to me," Kendall huffed, feigning indignance, "Doesn't this mean anything to you?"

With a laugh, Logan answered, "Yeah, it means I'm getting laid." He reached for his boxers and put them on under the covers before he continued. "And I owe your village a goat." '_And with that comment, I'm guessing this little arrangement we've had is about to be over.'_

Kendall refused to give up. Instead, she continued insistently, "You know, you can joke all you want, but I know we have a connection, Logan. You know, it may have started off as sex but over the past few months it's grown into something more."

Sitting up to face her, his cynicism was clearly evident. "Wow, so your feelings have grown as your bank balance has shrunk," he smirked, his hands moving up and down, as though balancing invisible weights.

"Its like science," he paused to emphasize his point. "One of the problems with sleeping with your stepson's friend...information tends to leak."

As he rolled out of bed, she desperately tried another angle.

"I don't know if you've noticed but you have a pretty good situation for yourself here. You want to go back to playing grab-ass with cheerleaders who have just mastered missionary, see ya."

While she continued to speak, he reached for a shirt and pulled it off a hanger. '_She can't seriously think I'm going to fall for this, can she?'_

"You want things to keep going the way they've been going, I'm gonna need a few things," Kendall stated arrogantly.

Angry now, Logan stared at her defiantly. "I'm sorry. 'See you' was option A?" He put his shirt on over his head and let the insults continue to fly. "Bessie. When the milk stops being free, I stop drinking it."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Kendall whined.

Leaning against his closet door frame, Logan said, "Frankly, my dear," he paused to give her a pointed look, "You know the rest."

Without another word, Kendall got up with a flourish, dressed hastily, and huffed out of his room.

Once he was alone, Logan finished getting dressed himself, then grabbed his phone to check his voicemail. It had been a couple hours since Veronica had left it but in spite of its contents and his mood, her words and their timbre made him smile.

"_The good news is that I'm perfect just the way I am. The bad, your plastic surgeon is a mensch."_

'_Damn. Well that doesn't help me at all.'_

Frustrated and annoyed, Logan left his room and landed himself on the sofa with his feet up, arms along the back, controller in hand. He flipped channels, first watching cartoons and later the news. He didn't know whether or not Duncan had been home but when he heard his friend's bedroom door open and shut again, promptly followed by high heels tapping on the floor, he couldn't help but wonder. '_Interesting...'_

It appeared that his speculation was confirmed when he saw Kendall cross toward the door, the buttons of her sweater not done up right. '_Seriously, DK. I always thought better of you. I wonder what Veronica's impression of this would be...' _

The thought tugged at his emotions. He may not have been dating Veronica anymore but he still considered her a friend. And he didn't want his friend to get hurt or, more specifically, blindsided.

He'd been cheated on. It fucking sucked. '_Especially when the culprit is someone who should know better...someone with some influence, someone thought to have integrity. Or, in certain cases, someone who is supposed to be an adult.' _

Forcing himself to remain calm, he asked Kendall idly, "You ever think about just getting a job?"

Her response didn't surprise him in the slightest. "This is my job."

The whole scenario played out repeatedly in Logan's head throughout that evening and into the next day. It nagged at him that the guy who was supposed to be so good, so golden, so honest and trustworthy, could possibly have cheated on the one girl who'd meant everything to him. '_What am I supposed to do?'_

He'd been mulling it over from the comfort of his room when he thought he heard Veronica's voice in the living area and went to check it out. When he saw the couple, they were obviously about to head out. He casually leaned his hand against the wall and interjected himself into their conversation.

"Hey, uh, Kendall wasn't bugging you yesterday, was she?" he asked his roommate casually.

Duncan immediately replied with a simple, "No," but Logan caught the calculated look from Veronica that seemed to silently scrutinize both himself and Duncan. '_She's wondering what I know.'_

"Good," Logan stated, his determination to continue fueled in equal parts by his desire for vengeance and his concern for Veronica. "Good, 'cause uhhh when I saw she was in your room for a little while, I got nervous. I know how she likes to talk a guy's ear off."

Veronica stared at Duncan as she and Logan both waited for his answer. '_Let's see what he has to say to that.' _

"She was just asking for my help with something," Duncan answered casually, giving Logan what he could only interpret as a warning look.

Logan's brows went up and he nodded silently in disbelief, knowing Veronica was watching his own reaction as much as Duncan's. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shred of doubt blossom in Veronica's gaze. '_Bingo. The rest is up to her.'_

"We'd better get going," Duncan stated curtly.

With an inscrutable glance between her boyfriend and her ex, Veronica nodded and then silently left with Duncan.


	13. Chapter 13

The knock came again. '_Why isn't Duncan answering it? We both know it's Veronica.' _He peeked his head out his bedroom door and groaned when he saw his roommate asleep on the couch.

"Fine," Logan muttered to himself, "I'll answer it. But she'd better have some answers for me."

WIthout ceremony, he opened the door to the suite and motioned Veronica inside. Gesturing to the couch, his tone reflected his irritation, "Your boyfriend's asleep."

She turned, crossing her arms over her chest, annoyance clear in her eyes. "I can see that."

"So, do you have anything for me?" Logan asked tersely.

They stayed close to the door and kept their voices low as the conversation bounced back and forth. The repartee was neither lighthearted nor cruel, but by now simply ingrained. They had no idea how to talk to each other without it.

"Nothing new," Veronica responded with a shake of her head, the look in her eyes now almost apologetic.

"Didn't you say your dad said that cigar shop was a front for drug deals? I mean, that's gotta mean something," Logan insisted with a hint of desperation.

Veronica shrugged, "Or not. Sometimes a cigar store is just a cigar store."

'_Are you kidding me, Veronica?! Come on! You've never given up on something that easily in your life. You'd treat your damn dog better than you're treating me right now!' _

Anger at her lack of persistence in his case drowned out his growing fear and Logan spat back, "I'll remember to be quippy when you're looking at 20 to life."

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Duncan get up and slip into his room.

Her barbed response came quickly. "Oh, you're being a jackass. Must be an even numbered day. I do so prefer the odd numbered days when you're kissing my ass for a favor."

The reminder that he'd asked for her assistance did nothing to help his mood. It took everything in him to keep from gritting his teeth as he responded, "If you find out why this plastic surgeon is trying to get me sent away for killing Felix, I will make sure that I remove all even numbered days from the calendar."

"Did Duncan go to bed?" Veronica asked, changing the subject as she glanced into the living room past his shoulder.

His eyes narrowed at her and his words took on a petulant, biting tone. "Yes, and he wanted me to tell you to give me your undivided attention." He paused before he started again, this time unable to hide his mounting desperation. "Pretend for a moment that your dog's life is at stake."

Just as he said those words, a thought occurred to him and he changed tacks. "Hey. Hey, maybe this so-called doctor is a pipeline to prescription drugs. That's how my pediatrician lost his license."

Veronica looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "Well, it's pretty easy to check on something like that."

She picked up the messenger bag that she'd laid at her feet, lifted the flap open, and pulled out her laptop. They moved to the couch where she sat down and he stood behind her, looking down over her shoulder.

Her fingers moved over the keyboard for a few minutes but it didn't take long before she was saying, "I found something."

Eager and alert, Logan leaned in to see. "What is it?"

Veronica pointed to the screen and explained what she was showing him, "Well, the eM website lists any disciplinary actions taken against its members. Apparently Dr. Griffith was reprimanded. Something about an inappropriate off-site practice. Patient's name is Danny Boyd."

Leaning back a bit, not wanting to get ahead of himself, Logan asked cautiously, "What does that mean?"

When Veronica looked up at him, he almost got lost in her eyes. She had that look of sheer determination in them. There was steel in her voice as she responded, "I don't know, but I'll check it out tomorrow."

With intense relief, he thought, '_She's back. She's found a lead and she's going to help. She hasn't completely given up on me after all.'_

After school the next day, Logan met Veronica in the parking lot at his truck. She'd told him over lunch that she'd found an address for this Danny Boyd character and he'd insisted on going with her to check him out.

He unlocked the doors and swung himself inside with a fluid grace. When they were both seated and buckled in, he asked where they were going. She navigated and he drove, both of them looking out the windows skeptically upon their arrival. The place was in the ghetto.

Veronica checked the address again just to be sure and said, "This is it."

In disbelief, Logan questioned, "The owner of this dump sprung for plastic surgery?" as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, preparing to get out but Veronica's words stopped him abruptly.

"Uh uh. You're staying here. This takes a certain subtlety." Her tone mocked him but he ignored it as he watched her unbuckle, open the door, slip out and sling her bag over her shoulder.

She faced the house for a moment and then turned back long enough to look at him through the window. "But if I need anyone punched in the face, I'll whistle for ya."

There was a sparkle in her clear blue eyes as she said it which made him think she meant the words to be teasing and insolent but still they stung. '_Is that really all she thinks I'm good for?' _He hoped not but as he thought about it, he knew her impression of him was probably justified. He really did have a penchant for swinging first, thinking later.

Logan closed his own door again, twirled his keys between his fingers, and rolled his eyes but he couldn't help looking after her with concern. '_What if this is one of those times when a fist in the face would be warranted?' _

He watched her knock on the door and inwardly groaned at the brute in a wifebeater who answered the door. The look of the guy did absolutely nothing to contradict his first impressions, instead serving to put him even more on edge. '_Dammit, Veronica. Why wouldn't you let me go with you? How am I supposed to protect you from here?'_

If anything happened to her while she was helping him, he'd be devastated. There'd literally be nothing left of him. They might as well convict him and give him the death sentence. At that point, he'd deserve it.

His eyes narrowed and his heart first jumped to his throat then dropped to his stomach when he saw Danny Boyd leading Veronica around the corner of the house and out of sight. '_What the fuck?!'_

She turned just before she disappeared, glancing at him as if to say she'd be okay, she could handle herself, but an immediate feeling of dread washed over him regardless. '_This is not good. Not good at all. Veronica, what the hell are you doing?!'_

While he fidgeted restlessly, he thought through his options. '_Five minutes. That's all I'm giving her. Five fucking minutes and then I go in and drag her out, even if she's kicking and screaming.'_

By the time those five agonizingly slow minutes had passed, and Veronica had still failed to reappear, Logan had worked himself up almost to a frenzy. He knew too much of her history, cared too damn much, to let anything happen to her again.

Adrenaline pumped violently through his system as he reached for his glove box and pulled out a gun. '_Loaded or not, this thing may come in handy.'_ He refused to take any chances. Not when it came to Veronica.

After checking his pocket to make sure his phone was there, he opened the driver's door and swung himself out of his truck. Without hesitation, he rounded the corner to the back of the house, moving toward the last place he'd seen Veronica headed.

The yard was empty except for a chained up pitbull. Logan began to panic. He looked around, trying desperately to figure out where they might have disappeared to.

If he hadn't heard the growing ruckus coming from inside, he might have missed the door entirely. As it was, it took him entirely too long to figure out that it was a rear entrance to some sort of business or food-serving establishment.

Several determined steps later, he'd reached the door, turned the handle, and found it open. As he stepped inside, his eyes worked to adjust to the dim light. '_The River Stix. Shit.'_ At the same time, his mind tried to make sense of the low buzzing sound he heard. '_Oh fuck.'_

When he saw Veronica being held down on a pool table with a tattoo needle just centimeters from her face, he acted immediately. He pulled out his phone, stepped forward, and said loudly, "Hey. I've got 9-1-1 on the line. Who can give me the address here? No one?" He spoke confidently into the receiver, "Hey, I've got one of those ankle monitors on. Does that help? Yeah. The River Stix. There's blood everywhere."

He closed the phone and put it away. "Come on, Veronica," he said with authority, "Let's go."

"Well, lads," said the Irish mobster who held Veronica, "Let's see how much damage we can do in the next two minutes." The man had a maniacal grin on his face. He obviously didn't fear the sheriff.

Without hesitation, Logan pulled out his gun, forced his hand not to tremble, and aimed steadily at the pock-marked mick. '_ohmygodohmygodohmygod...I'm really doing this.' _

"STOP," Logan said clearly, not quite sure how he kept his voice as even as he did. Maybe it was how hard he had to work to look strong and unaffected. '_This is a fucking Oscar-worthy performance.' _ Out loud, though, he said the only other thing that made sense. The one thing that made him sound completely unhinged, ready to pull the trigger. " I've had a very bad year."

As soon as Veronica was released, she scrambled off the table with a gasp and a whimper and stumbled toward Logan. He glanced at her twice to make sure she was okay. Slowly, he backed toward the door he'd come through and once Veronica was out, he lowered the gun, turned, and made his own escape. '_God, I hope I never have to do anything like that again.'_

They were both silent as they made their way back to the truck, got inside, and drove away. Logan couldn't even look at her, he felt so guilty. '_This is all my fault. She wouldn't have been there if it weren't for me. What would have happened if I hadn't had that gun? Never mind, I don't want to think about it. Score one for Dick's dad. Not what he intended, I'm sure, but thank god it worked. Two more minutes and I would have been too late.' _

When they'd made it what he deemed a safe distance, he pulled over and parked so he could check on her. '_She's gotta be a mess. And I'm the one who put her in the middle of this.'_

He looked over at her with concern. '_Shit. She looks like she's about to cry.' _Just as he thought it, she began to sob, dropping her head to her hands.

Awkwardly, he responded by saying, "Hey, it's ok." '_Should I touch her? Would that make it better or worse?' _ His hand ached to reach out but he didn't want to be rejected. '_Fuck it. I can't not try to comfort her. Especially when this whole mess is my fault.' _His hand touched her shoulder tentatively, "You're gonna be ok."

She threw off his hand immediately and he lifted it as if in surrender. The vehemence of her response shocked him.

"A gun?! Logan, a GUN? What are you doing with a gun? You're gonna get yourself killed, don't you understand that?!"

Her words didn't compute. '_What is she saying? Why is she so angry? It was me having a gun that saved her!' _

In an attempt to reassure her and defend himself, he showed it to her and said, "Look, it's not even loaded."

"Oh, I feel so much better," Veronica spat back at him with a glare.

Logan sighed and continued trying to explain. "Look, Dick's dad gave it to me." He paused to put it back in the glove compartment. "He said given my situation - "

Before he could finish, Veronica interrupted, starting to get out of the truck. "Given your situation, you should just move out of Neptune."

He lifted his foot to the seat, flashing the ankle monitor, and said bitterly, "Yeah, well, no can do."

Slamming the door, she stalked away. He stared after her, swallowing hard as a new fear and dread filled him. With his court date approaching, his situation grew more desperate each and every day. After what had just happened, would she refuse to help him? He longed to go after her, for her to come back. But it wasn't meant to be. He had to let her go.


	14. Chapter 14

Anyone who saw Logan at lunch the next day would think he didn't have a care in the world. He sat at a tableful of girls, flirting and laughing and eating pizza. The trouble was, it was all a facade. Inside, he was anything but cool and calm and carefree.

He watched Veronica from the corner of his eye and jumped up when he saw her get up to leave. He followed her into the building, hurrying forward to talk to her when she opened her locker.

Giving the metal door a small shove to make his presence known, he tested the waters by asking quietly, "Hey, any news on Nip/Schmuck?" Nervous butterflies flitted in the pit of his stomach. Would she still be willing to help him or was she through? He had to know for sure.

Snippily, Veronica responded, "It's pretty clear, isn't it? Our favorite plastic surgeon, for whatever reason, seems to be owned by the fighting Fitzpatricks."

'_At least she's talking about it...'_ Getting right to the point, he replied, "Well, as far as I know, I've done nothing to get their Irish up."

Sounding tired and irritable, Veronica stated, "And I'm working on the connections, ok?"

He couldn't help it. His fear and desperation were getting the better of him. If he were really to stop and think about all the implications, he'd likely be literally paralyzed. This and more swirled through his head and contributed to the sharpness of his words.

"If you could exonerate me sometime soon, that would be great. I really don't want bottom bunk in Fisty McRapes-a-Lot's cell."

Her biting retort was immediate, and accompanied by her patented glare. "If you wanted top, I'm sure it's negotiable."

'_Fine. You want some humility and contrition? Let's try this on for size.'_ His words were low and sincere with impatience hiding just below the surface. "Help me, Mars-wan-kenobi. You're my only hope." And with that exit line, he tapped her locker with the back of his hand and walked away, never looking back.

Later that night, after spending hours playing video games in a vain attempt to distract himself, Logan found himself ready to jump out of his skin.

'_Shit. I've got to do something, go somewhere, or I'll lose my mind.' _

Before he'd even finished the thought, he was halfway out the door, calling back to Duncan from the hallway, "I'm going out to get us some snacks. I'll be back later."

Barely receiving a grunt and a nod in response, Logan rolled his eyes and firmly slammed the door closed behind him.

Knowing the Fitzpatricks were somehow involved with his murder charge had really put him on edge. He buzzed with energy as he took the elevator down to the lobby, crossing the Grand entrance to make his way to the parking deck. The tires squealed on the pavement as he went round and round to the bottom and finally exited the garage.

Logan found a small shop a few blocks away that hadn't yet closed for the night. He parked around back and made his way inside, picking up some chips, jerky, and a soda. Paying for them at the register, he left the store and headed back to his truck.

When he rounded the corner of the building, he saw that he'd been blocked in. He stopped where he stood and let out a frustrated sigh, asking himself aloud, "What is wrong with people?"

Moving forward, he intended to go around the van and knock on the window, assuming he'd find a sleeping drunk or a bum. Just as he made it past the back bumper, he found himself face to face with a man in a black ski mask. Before he could say a word or move to react, he felt a burst of pain across his chin and everything went black.

The sting of a glove slapping his face was what woke him up, disoriented, aching. Eyes dilated and frantic, he saw the man in the mask, the darkened warehouse - or maybe it was a garage? - tasted the bitterness of his own blood, but couldn't believe that any of it was real.

When he tried to move, he discovered that his arms were tied down and he panicked. It was possible that someone had spoken, but with every ounce of his blood drumming in his head, he couldn't hear a thing.

"What the hell is this?" he rasped, putting all his effort into sounding in control and commanding.

His worst fears were realized when he heard the thickly accented voice that taunted him in return. "It's the people's court, junior. You're on trial for the murder of Felix Toombs."

'_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.'_

Logan's head was yanked up by his hair so he could see another man in a mask, standing in the shadows of a back corner.

"That's your judge and jury. I'm the prosecution. You. You get to represent yourself." The voice was hard, unforgiving. Rough fingers bit into the soft flesh around Logan's jaw before they shoved him back and let him go. '_Shit. I'm gonna die.'_

The man in the mask lifted his phone from his pocket and dialed a number, holding it out so the person on the other end could hear Logan's answer. "First question for the defendant. What happened to Felix that night on the bridge?"

Every fiber of Logan's being filled with dread instantly. '_It doesn't matter what I say. These guys'll never believe me...I'm dead. I'm really, really dead. No doubt about it. These guys are gonna fucking kill me.' _He shook his head slowly, unable to catch his breath. "I don't know. I don't know."

Displeased, the man in the mask lifted the phone to his ear. "Ok. He's all yours, Judge."

The other masked man stepped forward silently, revealing a revolver. He spun the chamber before closing it, aiming it at Logan's left hand, and cocking it.

As Logan watched with eyes wide, every coherent, intelligent thought spontaneously vanished.

He lifted his head, straining against whatever was binding him, crying out frantically, "No, No, NO! Come on, man!"

"One in six says you take a bullet."

In desperation, Logan pled, "No, no, come on, man, don't do it! Come on, are you crazy?!"

The sound of the trigger being pulled nearly stopped Logan's heart. He fell back, breathing hard as he closed his eyes, a strangled sound of relief escaping his lips.

But it wasn't over yet.

"I'll ask you again."

Logan tried to interject, "Look, I…"

The demanding voice spoke over him. "What happened?"

Adamant as he addressed his captors, Logan tried desperately to remain calm. "I can't remember, ok? I swear to god I can't remember."

This answer obviously did not please the man in the mask. The threatening voice asked, "Wanna try one in five?"

Frustrated, Logan lifted his head and said urgently, "Dammit, man, I'm telling you the truth. I swear to god. Why would I - ?"

The wretched voice cut him off. "You're a killer, boy, just like your old man."

Without waiting for a word or warning, 'The Judge' cocked the gun again, finger on the trigger, still pointed steadily at Logan's left hand.

Hysterical, helpless, and fighting for his life, Logan howled at the top of his lungs, "Oh god, stop, please! No! NO! No no no no no. NO!" He screamed when he heard another click from the gun.

Hollow relief. He'd escaped one more time.

His chest hurt. He felt like he couldn't breathe. "Stop, please," he begged, "I don't know anything! Damn it, man, I swear!"

"Oh, it's not up to me. It's 'The Judge' you gotta convince."

Logan's gaze swung rapidly to the other man. The man with the gun. "Please don't," he wheezed, "I'm telling the truth. I didn't do anything. I swear to god."

The other man spoke up again, his words filling Logan with horror. "You know what I think the problem is? This boy don't care about his hand. Let's try some more valuable real estate."

With steady precision, 'The Judge' moved the gun lower until he aimed at Logan's crotch.

Gasping for breath, eyes widening in terror, Logan's screams became hysterical, "Come on, man. NO! NOOO! PLEASE! Come on! Please don't. PLEASE! DON'T!" Words abandoned him momentarily and he let loose a frenzied wail.

When he regained his senses, he tried one last time to appease them, "Listen, why would I lie, you guys? No, come on, man, PLEASE!"

Another fist connected with his face and, mercifully, his world became dark again, but only for a few moments. They dragged him from the building, threw him back in the van and drove off. He stayed still, muscles loose, knowing his best bet was to play possum.

When he felt himself being heaved up, he slipped the phone that had been used out of his captor's pocket just before they tossed him out of a vehicle. He didn't fight it when his body bumped and banged its way down an embankment to its resting spot on the beach.

After he stopped moving, he waited a moment before he looked up toward the road. Even so, he managed to catch sight of a white cargo van hitting the gas, squealing away. Pulling himself up to his feet, he tried to remind himself that it was over.

The problem was, he didn't believe it. If they could take him once like that, they wouldn't hesitate to do it again. There was nothing he could do to stop them. And there was nothing he could do to make them believe him.

Every part of him ached. A residue of terror hung over him. More than anything, he wanted to curl up inside himself and bawl like a baby. But he couldn't. He had to try to be strong. Self-preservation, now more than ever, was a must.

He pulled the phone he'd lifted from his pocket and with purpose he hit redial.

On the other end, it didn't even get the chance to ring. Clear as day, without even a pause, he heard Weevil authoritatively ask, "Is it done?"

Righteous fury filled him. He wiped an arm across his nose. His voice held a maniacal edge as he spoke. "Oh, it's just getting started, Weevs. You have no idea the hell you just brought on yourself."

Pulling the phone away from his ear, he forcefully hung up. He sniffed, took a few deep breaths, and fought the tears that filled his eyes. He couldn't afford to break down. Not now.

A few nights later, Logan strategically gathered his buddies to take down the bastard who had tortured him. It hadn't taken much to convince the 09ers that Weevil needed to be brought to justice.

Having done a little recon beforehand, Logan led the way to the garage where the PCHers regularly tuned their bikes. Marching to the breaker box with his boys behind him, he smirked in anticipation and flipped the switch.

They heard Weevil call out in the dark and they were more than ready when the biker came around the corner. Logan hit him with a right cross to the face and said through gritted teeth, "I heard your lights were out."

By the time they finished with his beating, Weevil had blood and bruises everywhere. But Logan wasn't quite done with him yet.

"Now comes the humiliation," he said with satisfaction as he nodded to his crew to toss Weevil in their trunk.

In front of the school, just before dawn, they dragged Weevil out at Logan's order. They stripped him bare and duct taped his ass to the flagpole. As he left, Logan glared at Weevil one last time but his smirk was filled entirely with satisfaction.

Later that afternoon, Logan poured on the charm to get himself excused from newspaper class. He took his time, thoroughly washing and drying his hands, and was just debating whether he would actually return to class when, in the mirror, he saw Weevil enter and immediately kick a stopper beneath the door to block it.

"I hope that tape didn't burn too much when they ripped it off," Logan stated disingenuously without turning around, "I hear that can leave some chafing."

Weevil stalked forward angrily and growled, "You made the wrong play, dawg. I shouldn't let you live for what you pulled."

Logan turned, astonished, finished drying his hands and threw the paper towel away. "What I pulled? Hang on, compadre, let's recap." The outrage in his tone was unmistakable as he began to list the gang leader's many sins. "You blasted a shotgun through my car with me inside."

Quietly, and without looking at Logan, Weevil responded, "That wasn't me."

Ignoring him, Logan continued, gradually getting louder. "You torched my house. Then your masked banditos played Russian Roulette with my hand. 'K, my math says you still owe me."

"I thought you killed Felix," came Weevil's only response, as if that all by itself was an adequate explanation, a complete justification for all his actions

For the first time since Weevil entered the bathroom, Logan stilled, completely calm, his voice filling with conviction. "I didn't."

"Yeah, I pretty much know that now," Weevil answered, looking away.

'_What the fuck?! That's the best he can do?'_ Animosity filled Logan once again and he spat, "Oh, are you waiting for the music to swell before you start the apology?"

The words were ignored when Weevil continued, "We have something in common now. We both need to find out who killed Felix."

Logan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So, what? We team up? Get matching capes? I ride shotgun in a sidecar?" '_This is crazy! But if he means it, can I afford to turn him down? Damn it all to hell, probably not.'_

"Something like that," Weevil acknowledged, "But not yet." His cocky attitude returned with a vengeance. "See, I can't let you leave here like that, looking the way you did when you walked in. Not if I don't wanna end up some bald guy with tattoos who rides the school bus."

A light of appreciation and almost anticipation filled Logan's gaze as he smirked. "Well I hope you're not expecting me to just stand here and take it."

Weevil grinned, the look on his face matching his attitude. "Wouldn't be much fun if you did."

"Alright so who's gonna throw the first - " Logan began but then the bell rang and he was interrupted.

Weevil took advantage of the distraction and punched Logan in the face with his right fist. Logan came back at Weevil with a vengeance and soon they were bouncing off garbage cans and throwing each other into walls.

It took Clemmons and school security forcing their way in to bring an end to their show. As they were both being hauled through the halls, Logan thought, '_That might have been the most productive thing I've done all day.'_


	15. Chapter 15

The air in the corridor was stale as Logan strode through the halls of the sheriff's department like he owned the whole place. Inside, though, he was filled with turmoil. '_Why the hell am I here? Is Mr. Mars going to accuse me of something else...?' _

Bracing himself for the worst, he leaned dramatically against the open door to the office he'd been pointed toward and said with his best Robin Leach air, "I adore what your designers have done with the men's room. That Hefty bag over the busted urinal adds a delicious wabi sabi feel." Stepping inside, he turned with exaggerated precision and proceeded to close the door.

Keith sounded almost apologetic when he spoke, his lips sporting a small smile. "That's Don's thing. We went more mid-century modern back in my day," he paused before continuing more seriously, "Anyway, thanks for coming by. I'm guessing by your blithe spirits that you have no idea what's up."

Before Logan could answer, Keith moved to take a seat and started the tape recorder lying on his borrowed desk.

Cautious and concerned, Logan sensed that another shoe was about to drop. He sat down slowly and responded warily, "Nooo, but they request my presence here weekly, so..."

Thankfully, Keith got right to the point. "Logan, the tapes of your dad and Lilly have been stolen from the evidence room. I'm here to investigate how it happened and try to get them back."

Logan's reaction was immediate. He grabbed the arms of his chair, eyes blazing with anger. "What?!"

The former sheriff remained calm but Logan could feel Keith's eyes watching him intently. "Obviously, I need to know what, if anything, your father might have said lately about the case or the evidence."

Fury raced through Logan from head to toe. "Wait. Wait. Now I'm totally confused. That sounded a lot like a question you would ask a suspect, an accomplice, say."

"You did spend time with Aaron right before the tapes were stolen," Keith reminded him, completely unperturbed.

A knock on the door interrupted them, giving Logan a few moments to sit and stew. '_I know I was an ass to your daughter and never did a damn thing to deserve her but seriously, dude, do you really think I'd actually ever help that bastard?' _

"Yeah?" Keith said in answer to the knock, listening as Inga came in to tell him he had a phone call.

When Keith left the room, Logan used the opportunity to nose around in every visible nook and cranny of the abysmally dreary office. Coming up with nothing interesting after several long minutes, his impromptu investigation lost its appeal. He flopped down on the wooden bench, still waiting, restless and thoroughly annoyed.

'_So much for this being a priority,'_ he thought bitterly. '_What? Did someone even more nefarious than myself call in? What the fuck is taking so long?!'_

Just as he was about to get up and start rummaging through random desk drawers, Sacks opened the door and, not noticing Logan on the bench, walked in and dropped a file on the desk. He left it sitting unceremoniously less than five feet from where Logan now sat where it could taunt him and mock him, inevitably sparking his curiosity.

Once the door had closed again, Logan stood and reached for the file, opening and flipping through it. What he found was a departmental email list that he instantly folded and stuffed in his pocket.. '_I just struck gold.' _The cogs in his mind began to turn, spinning with all the possibilities.

Before he'd been able to formulate a plan or plot a course, the door opened and Mr. Mars walked back in. Logan couldn't help but mentally smirk. '_I'm one up on you now!'_

Going around the desk and taking his seat, Keith said in the most pointedly professional tone Logan had ever heard, "Sorry about the interruption. Now, I asked you whether you had heard anything unusual from your father. Did he ever mention the tapes when you were locked up with him?"

A bit of the bite had gone out of Logan now that he had that email list but he still forced himself to keep up the front. Besides, it still pissed him off that ever-observant Keith Mars actually thought him capable of colluding with his father, the devil. "Can you seriously imagine me conspiring to save Daddy Dearest? Lilly's killer?"

Keith smiled again and Logan couldn't help but think he looked like a piranha, swimming around peacefully, just waiting to attack. "Just making sure I have every bit of pertinent information."

It was the smug yet friendly smile that did Logan in. He'd had far more than enough. He rose from the chair and looked down at Keith Mars behind the desk where he sat. Barely controlled anger laced his words as he spoke, "I'll tell you what, dude, if I hear anything pertinent I'll get back to you."

Even through the haze of his self-righteous anger, Logan understood that while Keith's response appeared calm, what he was really seeing now was a side of the former sheriff that was much more dangerous. The same side he'd seen when he'd broken that lamp. "The name's not 'dude', it's Mr. Mars."

The two men stared at each other for more than a few stress-filled moments before Logan finally turned and walked away. In the hallway, he paused to pull the list of names and email addresses from his pocket. He pored over them with a satisfied smirk on his face. '_See, dude? This is what you get for not believing in me. A big Fuck You and an I'll Handle This On My Own.'_

When he got back to the suite at the Grand, he was relieved to find himself alone. He set up his laptop, and sat down next to it on his bed. Leaning back, he cracked his knuckles and looked at the screen intently. "Now...how do I go about this? What exactly is it that I hope to accomplish?"

'_Fuck. What DO I hope to accomplish? Do I want those tapes back in the evidence room? Where they could be stolen again? Sold to some shithead at TMZ?' _

It took a while for him to come to any sort of conclusion. '_If I destroy the tapes, does that destroy the case against my dad? Is preserving a little of Lilly's dignity worth it?'_

But it wasn't just Lilly's dignity that was at stake here. It was Logan's sanity, what little bit of privacy he had. '_Can I risk the world seeing the mockery she made of our relationship? Having her infidelity replayed over and over and over?' _ Just the thought of it made him want to puke.

Nerves raw with the weight of emotion, a calm settled over Logan as he realized exactly what he had to do. '_I don't care what this does to his case. I need to get my hands on those tapes so they can be erased. I'll do it myself somehow.'_

Minutes later, fingers flying over the keyboard, Logan had set up an anonymous email address and had begun crafting his brief plea through a departmental letter.

"I would like to offer $50,000 for all originals and copies of the Aaron Echolls tapes you are holding as evidence for his upcoming trial. Reply to this email address if you are willing to sell them to me."

He knew that in the scope of things his offer was minimal. Whoever had the tapes could definitely get way more from _The Enquirer_ or _Entertainment Tonight,_ but with just his mom's inheritance at his disposal for the time being, it was all he could offer. Reading it over one last time, he took a deep breath, placed his finger on the mouse, and hit send.

'_There. Nothing else I can do now but hope for the best. __Maybe I'll find a reason to believe in the kindness of strangers__. Maybe, just maybe. But not yet.'_

The first response came within just a couple of minutes with a second following shortly after. Two replies. '_One fake and one real. Has to be. Unless it was a two person job, both trying to outsmart the other to get their hands on the money.'_

It was with a fine-tooth comb that he scanned both the responses. One was short, simple, to the point and from an Inga Olofson. The other proved more cautious, hesitant, asking for more details, specifically what he planned to do with the tapes once he obtained them. That was from a Deputy Leo D'Amato.

'_Bingo. That one's for real. The other's a trap. Would have to be Mr. Mars. He said he'd been brought in just to work on this case. Well, sorry dude, you can track me down all you want but it looks like I'm two steps ahead of you and I know you're not quite as quick as your daughter.'_

Thinking of Veronica made something click in his mind. The name of the deputy. It sounded familiar, something to do with her. He wracked his brain for a bit before it hit him. '_Of course. The cop she dated. Didn't she say she dumped him for me? Would he still help me if he knew?'_

With that thought came a smidgen of doubt, enough to make him continue with his anonymity when he responded to the deputy's email. He sat thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the edge of his keyboard, trying to come up with just the right words. It was a really freaking delicate situation.

"Deputy, I assure you, my only intention in buying the tapes is to erase them. There are some things that should never have the chance to be exposed on the internet. If we have a deal, bring the tapes to the concierge at the Neptune Grand. He'll have the money for the exchange."

Taking the time to re-read it several times, making sure it sounded generic and mature enough to satisfy, he made several tiny tweaks and then hit send, an action that prompted him to hold his breath. '_What'll I do if he doesn't take the bait?'_

Before he had time enough to form a backup plan, he received another message and sighed in relief. The deputy was going to take him up on his offer. '_Maybe the kindness of strangers is a real thing after all. Now...how do I make this happen?'_

Since this was one transaction he couldn't put on his Amex card, Logan paused to consider just how he might be able to come up with that much money in cash. The easiest way he could think of would require him to contact his dad's accountant, Avi Kaufman.

If he did that, word would surely get back to his old man. Try as he might, though, he couldn't come up with a better option. Everything he thought of would require him to depend on someone else, less reliable, and not professional. Like Dick.

Logan just couldn't see asking Dick for help, whether he was sleeping with the dude's step-mom or not. No way could Dick, good intentions, loyalty, and all, be trusted in a matter that would require him to handle fifty thousand dollars.

'_Avi Kaufman it is.' _He made the call, made his request, and at Avi's annoying insistence, gave him a made up story about a lost bet in order to explain his need for it. In spite of some initial hesitation, Logan managed to convince the superstar accountant that it would be in all their best interests for the matter not to be mentioned to his dad.

"It's called plausible deniability, Avi. Live it. Learn it," Logan stated with conviction into the mouthpiece. "Now, when can I expect the money?"

They went back and forth for another few minutes before the details were decided upon and confirmed. As soon as he hung up, Logan sent Leo an update.

"Should be set for tomorrow at 2 o'clock. I'll email again when the money's in place."

Everything went off without a hitch. Logan skipped lunch and the last two periods of the day to oversee the matter himself. Right on time at 1 o'clock, Avi himself met Logan in the lobby. They shook hands briefly, the older man holding his gaze as he handed Logan the envelope.

"Make sure it gets put to good use," the ever-practical accountant said.

"Oh I will," Logan replied, "Don't you worry about that."

Ater Kaufman left, Logan made his way to the concierge and formally made his request. The Echolls name and charm served him well. The concierge agreed to make the exchange without so much as batting an eyelash.

Logan hid out in his room, waiting nervously, playing video games and watching random DIY shows on TV. Even doing some homework. Anything to try to make the time go a little faster. Just when he didn't think he could take it anymore, there was a knock on the suite door and when he opened it, there stood the concierge with the tapes.

It was only after he had the tapes in his hands that he felt comfortable responding to Inga Olofson, a.k.a. Keith Mars, letting him know he'd been outsmarted. At the same time, he wanted Mr. Mars to know the truth. That he'd only bought the tapes so he could destroy them, but now he was having second thoughts.

'_I could just give them back to Mr. Mars. He'd make sure they stayed in evidence where they're supposed to be. Who am I kidding? He'd try but he'd never be able to make sure they didn't get stolen again, this time maybe by someone even more corrupt. Then I'd have to make another offer and it could be too late or I may not be able to pay them enough.'_

He turned the tapes over and over in his hands until he made his final decision. The tapes would be erased just like he'd planned. He'd already gathered the equipment to make it happen. But first he'd have to watch them. And that was gonna hurt.

With a mix of melancholy and trepidation, he put the first tape in the machine, sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, and hit play. The images that came on screen felt like a stab to his heart. No, more than that. It was as if someone were holding it, squeezing it, twisting it, ripping it to shreds before yanking it out and stomping on it.

Silent tears ran down his face. He pulled his sleeves down over his hands and gripped them tight, occasionally using them to swipe at his nose or his face.

Slowly, painfully he made it through each and every one of the tapes. By the end, he felt hollow, empty. After each one, he took the tape degausser and deliberately erased the content, at the same time hoping to erase the images from his mind.

Just as he finished with the last one there was a knock on the suite door and he moved to answer it, his shoulders slumped and defeated in spite of the fact that in some small way he should have felt triumphant. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do and now he would have to face the consequences.

Standing there as Logan knew he would be was Keith Mars in a suit jacket, white button up, and jeans. Logan stayed silent. Nothing he could say would make sense.

But Mr. Mars seemed to understand anyway, at least it sounded like it from his knowing words. "For that experience you paid fifty grand?"

Unable to respond in any other way, Logan left the door open, turned, and walked over to lean his back against the bar. Even if he couldn't drink at the moment, maybe the knowledge that the key to oblivion was behind him would be enough to soothe him for the time being.

When he finally managed some words, his voice was raw with emotion and he couldn't quite meet Mr. Mars's eyes. "Yeah well, all that matters is that the world wide web won't be hosting mpegs of my old man defiling the love of my life."

Keith's voice was gentle but sure and Logan swore he heard more than a hint of accusation. "For a guy who says he hates his father, you sure did him a huge favor."

Defensively, defiantly, Logan stated, "Well, I've seen the tapes. I can testify against him as well as anyone else."

"You can also go to jail," Mr. Mars pointed out, "This is a serious crime."

Logan knew he'd outsmarted the man but found it really gave him no pleasure. Shrugging and wearing his best poker face, he asked, "Yeah? Uh, where's the evidence?"

Keith waved his hand toward the tapes on the coffee table and said, "I believe those are the tapes right there."

"Yeah those are blank," Logan responded with indifference.

"Blank tapes made you cry?" Keith Mars asked sardonically.

His eyes darted around the room as Logan searched for a quick response. "Yeah, I thought I'd saved the Daria marathon on them."

"Right," Keith said, still not buying it, "And most people have a tape degausser lying around on their coffee table."

Refusing to say anything more, Logan nodded and shrugged. Sometimes less was more in these cases.

It was obvious to Logan that Mr. Mars was getting frustrated but he could also see that he was about ready to admit defeat. "Well at least tell me this, how did you manage to buy those tapes for a tenth of their market price?"

With a small smile and the charm of a southern drawl on his lips, Logan responded, "Why, sir, I've always depended upon the kindness of strangers." '_A kindness I hadn't been sure existed.'_

Mr. Mars seemed taken aback, like he had a hard time believing it as well. "Kindness, at the sheriff's department?"

Logan simply nodded. '_And goddamn am I thankful for it.'_

"I seriously doubt that," the former sheriff scoffed but came up short all of a sudden. In a flash, Logan saw the older man's realization. '_Poor bastard. Not a chance in hell is Deputy Leo gonna catch a break after helping me. Well, hopefully that fifty grand was worth it.'_


	16. Chapter 16

When Logan entered their shared quarters a few evenings later, Duncan appeared to be in an almost catatonic state.

"Hey, DK," Logan called, his eyes sharpening at the sight of his friend, scrutinizing him when he didn't answer. '_Shit. I haven't seen him this disengaged since...Lilly. What the hell is going on?'_

Logan flopped onto the couch beside Duncan, examining him closely. The fact that DK hadn't responded to his greeting was definitely a concern.

"Dude," Logan tried again, this time waving a hand in front of Duncan's face, "Someone steal your candy?"

"Huh?" Duncan blinked, eyes puzzled and searching.

"You were out of it," Logan pointed out, "Didn't even hear me come in. Haven't seen you like that since...well, you know when."

"Lot on my mind," Duncan answered distractedly, shrugging his shoulders dismissively.

"Nuh uh, not buying the generality, dude. You're gonna have to do better than that," Logan returned, shaking his head. "What's up?"

Blowing out a breath as he rested his head in his hands, Duncan mumbled something that Logan didn't quite catch.

"You're gonna have to speak up, man. I couldn't hear you."

Duncan released what sounded like a frustrated groan and repeated what Logan assumed he had said the first time. "Meg's pregnant and Veronica knows."

Logan blinked in shock. '_Whoa. I don't even know how to fucking process that.'_

Apparently the look on Logan's face said as much as his lack of words. The next thing Logan knew, Duncan was nodding miserably and saying, "I know."

"It's yours?" Logan asked in a gravelly tone filled with disbelief.

'_The boy who could do no wrong fucked up and got his virtuous ex pregnant?! When the fuck did hell freeze over? I wonder what Veronica thinks of all this...'_

Duncan nodded and Logan shook his head, letting out a weighted '_whoosh'_ of air.

Unable to help himself, Logan asked, "How'd Veronica take it?"

"About like you'd expect," Duncan answered hopelessly.

"Did she break up with you?" Logan persisted relentlessly. '_Please say yes, please say yes.' _The thought made him feel guilty. He should want to be supportive of his friend, not his ex. But a whirlwind of emotions warred within him. '_Serves her right...No. She didn't do anything to deserve this...Fuck it. She made her choice.'_

"No," Duncan responded, sounding relieved, "She just got mad and asked why I hadn't told her."

"Wait," Logan inserted, suddenly more alert, "You didn't even tell her yourself?! How'd she find out?"

'_She's Veronica Mars. Of course she found out. Still...'_

"She went to the hospital and saw Meg," Duncan answered, sounding guilty, "She's pretty far along."

"Wow, dude," Logan shook his head, still blown away. "You're gonna be a dad."

"I know," Duncan said quietly.

'_Hmm...burn down a pool, get a girl pregnant. Veronica's getting herself quite the track record of badly behaved boyfriends. Only thing I wanna know is, why's she still with him? How is it that he warrants another shot and I didn't?'_

That night, the phone woke him. Before he could gather his bearings, figure out what was going on and then go back to sleep, Duncan came stumbling through Logan's bedroom door.

"Meg's dead," he said raspily, "And I'm a father."

Shooting upright in bed, Logan was instantly wide awake. "Whoa. That sure happened awfully fast."

Duncan nodded into the dark and sunk to the foot of Logan's bed. "A blood clot came loose and they lost her. Meg, not the baby. They had to do an emergency c-section."

"The baby's ok?" Logan asked cautiously, mind racing as he tried to figure out how best to support his grieving friend.

"Yeah," Duncan replied hollowly, his voice catching on a sob, "But they won't let me see her. The Mannings are trying to say I'd be an unfit parent."

"What the hell, man?!" Logan responded angrily, hands curling into tight fists, "You're gonna fight it, though, aren't you?"

"I don't know," Duncan answered in despair, "Maybe it's all for the best."

'_Seriously?! He'd abandon his kid before he's even met it...him...her…? That's seriously fucked up. Especially when the kid's already lost its other parent.'_

Logan struggled with his emotions. The scenario in his head was hitting too close to home. Losing a parent. Being abandoned by a parent. He needed to shut it down before it rubbed him raw. He needed to focus on his friend and not the newborn baby.

Swallowing hard, Logan forced himself to ask, "So, is it a boy or a girl?"

"Girl," Duncan said quietly. Logan could see him wringing his hands in the moonlight.

A lump formed in Logan's throat. He'd always wanted a daughter. If he ever got past his fucked up genetics and decided to have a kid of his own, anyway. '_How is it that he ends up with everything I've ever wanted? He doesn't deserve it. And he sure as hell doesn't appreciate it. This whole situation is so messed up.'_

Before Logan could figure out what else to say, Duncan rose with a sigh. "I've gotta go. I can't just sit here like this. I need some time alone. Time to think."

"Yeah, dude, whatever. Let me know if there's anything I can do, ok?" Logan offered with concern.

"Sure," Duncan said distractedly. After he walked out, Logan checked on him a few times the next day. Every time he did, his friend was still locked in his room and all Logan could hear was weeping.

The elevator at the Grand was empty when Logan stepped inside the next afternoon, hit the button, and situated himself comfortably against the back wall. Just before the doors closed, Veronica slipped through the opening and joined him.

'_Fuck. Well, this should be interesting. Game face on, Echolls. Mask up, snark out. Go.'_

Refusing to look at her directly in spite of the fact that he'd already taken in every minute detail of her appearance, he wondered just how quickly he could get a rise out of her. Schooling his features and his voice to be as casual as possible, he said, "Hi, ho."

It took a moment for the words to sink in and spark the response he was looking for. Just when he was beginning to berate himself for being a moron, she turned toward him, her words spoken in a tone that sounded close to disbelief. "What did you say?"

He ducked his head, fighting to suppress a triumphant smile at her reaction. '_Bingo,' _he thought, '_I still affect her.' _Then he said with feigned innocence, "Oh, your uniform. Hi ho, it's off to work you go." He shrugged and forced his eyes forward again, watching the floors crawl by.

Clearly amused but also slightly annoyed, Veronica said overly brightly, "I guess that makes me Snow White."

Seeing his opening, Logan returned with, "You must be on your way up to see Mopey."

Keeping up just as he knew she would, Veronica asked, "How's he doing, Sleazy?"

"I wouldn't know. He doesn't come out of his room. Old Italian ladies don't grieve like this." His tone was filled with disgust. When he continued, he looked toward Veronica, rubbing salt in the wound of her tortured romance. "Boy, he must have really loved Meg." Purposely, he emphasized the name of the other girl.

Veronica's answer was calm, cool, and collected. A true disappointment to him. "Well, then there's that other thing," she said pointedly, "You know, he can't see his baby."

'_I'll have to up my game if I want a reaction.' _ Pushing her buttons deliberately, Logan covered his mouth as if he were shocked. "A _baby_! How'd _that_ happen?"

He silently studied the stubborn set of her jaw and knew he'd pushed her hard enough. She refused to speak for the remainder of the elevator ride. '_Fuck. She's not handling it well at all.'_ Then he remembered, again, that it wasn't his place to care. Still, he couldn't help thinking mournfully, '_You wouldn't be dealing with this if you were still with me...'_

Quietly, they exited the elevator onto the top floor. He followed her to the suite and watched as she pulled out a spare key. Opening the door, she swung it wide and ushered him in. He entered reluctantly and removed his jacket as he moved toward the couch.

Watching as she headed toward Duncan's bedroom door, Logan couldn't resist the bitter urge to pick at her again. "There she goes. The angel of mercy. Time to fake the donut."

She ignored him while he flopped on the couch and settled in, pretending he didn't care. Still, he couldn't keep his eyes from following her. He saw her pause after she opened the door and took a final jab. "Uh oh, you catch him waxing his board?"

Before she could respond, Kendall walked out of Duncan's room, clad only in a towel, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

'_This should be interesting,'_ Logan thought, sitting up straighter, paying closer attention.

"What are you doing here?" Veronica demanded sharply.

"I was invited," Kendall responded smugly, "How about you?"

Without another word, Veronica turned and left the suite.

Torn, Logan couldn't decide what to do. He stood and paused a moment thoughtfully, first glancing in the direction Veronica had retreated, then toward the bedroom Kendall had re-entered.

'_No way is Veronica gonna tell me a damn thing. If I want to know the truth, I'm gonna have to deal with Kendall.' _With that in mind, he trailed after the self-styled seductress.

When he entered his friend's room, he saw Kendall trading her towel for a terrycloth robe. There was no sign of Duncan. Amused, his eyebrows rose and he simply asked, "Lost?"

"Oh quit standing there so smug. Tomorrow you're just gonna call me at 2 in the morning and say you want some company. For your information? That doesn't really satisfy me, Logan."

Logan smirked in disbelief, "Really? You always come."

She glared at him, gave a grudging nod that he'd won that round, and walked away.

Following her, Logan asked again, "Why are you here, Kendall?"

"None of your damn business," Kendall responded snootily, "I get a call, I come. Sometimes more than once."

The look of triumph on her face told him she was done giving him any kind of information. That was fine with him. He'd gotten the answer he needed. Now he just needed to find out why the hell Duncan was sleeping with a skeez like her when he had Veronica. '_Probably don't want to know. And will definitely never understand.'_

When Logan next saw Dick for an afternoon of surfing, he debated talking to him about all that had been going on. He needed a sounding board and there was no way he could talk things through with the people most closely involved. That left Dick. The next best thing to a best friend.

'_He may be the world's most authentic jackass, but he's loyal. He's always had my back, which is more than I can say for Duncan.'_

"Dude," he ended up saying before he could think better of it, "I'm worried about Veronica. This whole thing with Meg dying and Duncan having a baby, it's gotta be getting to her. Is there anything more messed up than that?"

Dick stopped walking, staking his surfboard in the sand, and looked at Logan, considering. "Man, you gotta get over that chick. She's seriously bad for your karma."

"Right. Like you wouldn't go back to Madison in a heartbeat," Logan retorted spitefully, holding his own board under his arm.

"True dat," Dick acknowledged with a grin and a chuckle. "At least I would if she ever put out." He paused before changing the subject. "Ok, here's what we'll do. I'll keep an eye on your former leading lady while you prod your lawyers to get those murder charges dropped."

'_Hmm. Actually, he has a point. I've been spending so much time obsessing over Veronica, I haven't exactly been putting much effort into building my defense.'_

"You know what, Dick?" Logan asked in amazement, feeling a heavy weight lift from his shoulders, "You've got yourself a deal."

Said deal paid off and paid off handsomely not even a week later. Logan was seated on the couch, thumbs flying over the buttons of his game controller, when a loud, insistent pounding sounded at the suite door.

Swiftly glancing over his shoulder, he briefly debated finishing the battle he was in the midst of, calling out a harried, "Be there in a minute!"

"Dude! Let me in!" came the demanding reply.

'_Dick.' _

A strange tingle ran up and down Logan's spine as he quickly found a save point and tossed down the controller. He surged to his feet and hurried to the door.

'_If something's got him this worked up, it's gotta be big. What the hell is he gonna tell me now?'_

Ever since Dick had told him about the bus crash, Logan had decided that in spite of the inevitable theatrics, he could probably trust the elder Casablancas brother to keep him up-to-date on breaking news and other important information.

'_I wonder if it has anything to do with Veronica.'_

Opening the door, Dick pushed past him. He didn't take long to get down to business.

"You so missed out on the drama at lunch today, dude. You're never gonna believe it!" Dick exclaimed.

"So tell me," Logan responded dryly. He was definitely going to have to work on his patience if extra Dick time was in his future. '_Hopefully it'll be worth it.'_

"Dude," Dick began before blurting, "Ronnie and Duncan broke up!"

"WHAT?!" Logan exclaimed, his heart suddenly racing, feeling like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. "What do you mean they broke up? How do you know?" he demanded immediately.

"It was about Meg. Meg and the baby. Duncan's been pushing her away," Dick relayed breathlessly, "That's all I know, I swear."

Logan dropped heavily to the couch, thinking. '_What does this mean? Anything? What the fuck do I do with this information?' _

It took several minutes of inner contemplation while Dick rambled on for Logan to make his decision. He would do nothing. His life was a mess. He had enough to deal with. He didn't need to add to the struggle by trying to rekindle a relationship. Besides, Veronica had broken up with him. Just because she was free now didn't mean anything. If he really wanted another chance with her, he needed to bide his time. Do it right.

'_Business first, then pleasure.'_


	17. Chapter 17

The business he'd previously been thinking of began with a meeting of minds, his and Weevil's. With the sudden disappearance of Duncan and his baby, Logan had the hotel suite to himself, so Weevil came to him. It was safer that way. For both of them.

"It's down to two guys," Weevil said in tones still hushed, even though they were alone, "Hector or Bootsie. One of them stabbed Felix," he stated with conviction, then explained, "Thumper says they were the only two left on the bridge with you and him."

"So how are we gonna figure out who did it?" Logan asked, completely serious. If this was what he had to do to first get himself off the hook and then possibly have another chance with Veronica, he was going to go all in.

"The one who did it is the one who's in business with the Fitzpatricks," Weevil answered simply, "He's got a pipeline to coke, meth, and E. You know anyone who can - ?"

Logan cut him off, nodding, "Yeah. I'll handle it." '_Should be a perfect opportunity for Dick.'_

Weevil nodded.

"Give me forty-eight hours," Logan continued after giving his plan a few more moments of thought, "I'll pass you the evidence and name in the hall when I have it. You can knock into me or whatever."

"Whatever works," Weevil smirked. "I'll never pass up an opportunity to push you around."

"Har har," Logan responded with barely concealed disdain. He headed to the door and held it open, "Now, if we're done here, I have better things to do."

Without another word, Weevil disappeared into the night, leaving Logan alone. He picked up his phone from the coffee table and dialed an increasingly familiar number, waiting for the older Casablancas brother to answer.

Not even an hour later, Dick was seated with Logan on the couch, blissfully playing video games. Logan glanced between the animated babes in bikinis and Dick. '_There's definitely nothing beneath the surface with him. Must be nice to be that transparent.'_

Oblivious to the thoughts swirling in Logan's head, Dick's full concentration was on the video game. "Dig it out, baby, dig it out. Make daddy proud."

'_It's almost a shame to interrupt him.'_ But he had to. If he wanted to dig himself out of the hole he was in, there was no choice. "Hey listen, I need you to do me a favor."

Without looking away from the screen, Dick asked, "It's not that favor that Bobby Brown does for Whitney, is it?"

Logan laughed, shaking his head with a small smile, and said, "No."

With a shrug and a nod, his fingers still moving on the controller, Dick answered indifferently, "Then, whatev."

Taking a deep breath, Logan laid it on the line. "I need you to try to buy some ecstasy from a couple PCHers." '_And now we find out just how good of a friend he thinks I am.'_

Without missing a beat, Dick replied, "Yeah, no sweat. I'm like this with those guys." He took a moment to hold up a pair of crossed fingers before once again his full attention was consumed by the video game. "Oh no, honey, bad set. Bad set. Don't make daddy hose you down."

This time, Logan couldn't keep his admiration to himself. "You're not really complicated, are you, Dick?" The concept was unfamiliar but he liked it. '_Something to strive for, perhaps?'_

Shrugging again, Dick responded simply, "Try not to be."

In that moment, Dick's transparent personality and cheerful demeanor worked together to lighten Logan's mood.

The very next day, Dick came up to Logan at his locker, clearly bursting with news.

"Hey, what's the word?" Logan asked as his new BFF approached.

"Well, the one they call Bootsie told me no and went on to suggest I perform sexual intercourse upon my own person."

Logan deadpanned in response, "Doesn't he understand? If you could do that, you'd never come to school."

"Boy, that's the truth," Dick replied with a wistful nod.

"And Hector?" Logan prompted.

Digging in his pocket, Dick answered with a grin, "Sold me 10 hits of E."

A slight hint of annoyance in his voice, Logan said, "I gave you enough cash for 20."

With a shrug of indifference, Dick responded snidely, "Gave me the 09er discount, charged me double."

"And you paid it?" Logan demanded as they tussled playfully.

Once Dick had gone, Logan reached for a marker and wrote Hector's name on the container of E. He caught Weevil's eye as they passed in the hall and purposely ran into the vertically challenged biker.

Weevil turned, understanding the game, taking the package from Logan even as he asked menacingly, "What's the matter with you, boy?"

Unperturbed, Logan pretended to tip an invisible hat to Weevil before turning and quickly walking away.

That night, Logan got a message from Weevil telling him to meet him in the bathroom during fourth period. He had news and he wanted to share it in person.

When Logan entered the men's room the next day, Weevil was already there waiting for him. Spreading his hands as he approached him, Logan said smartly, "We've gotta stop meeting like this."

"Tell me about it," Weevil responded darkly, "What do you think it's doing to my reputation?"

"So, you messaged, I came. What did you find out?" Logan asked. With the niceties out of the way, it was right down to business.

"Hector's saying he got his supply from Sean Freidrich and that it must be Freidrich who's in it deep with the Fitzpatricks," Weevil said.

"Do you believe him?" Logan questioned immediately. Trust wasn't exactly something that came easily to him. Especially not when it came to the PCHers.

"I don't know," Weevil admitted, "But I plan to find out."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Logan inquired impatiently.

"You hide in one of the stalls. I'll go flush Friedrich out. Then once he's in here, I'll confront him," Weevil explained.

"You've clearly thought this through," Logan responded sarcastically, "So what, if you're not back in ten minutes, just wait longer?"

"Yeah, something like that," Weevil replied, obviously unfazed by the smart-ass remark.

When Weevil disappeared through the door, Logan made himself as comfortable as he could, situating himself in the end stall, closest to the wall, mirrors, and sinks.

After what seemed like forever, the bathroom door opened again and Logan heard someone step inside. Just a couple minutes later, the hinges on the door creaked again and a second set of footsteps approached the first. Then Weevil's voice rang out and it was showtime.

"You remember last year when you looked down on me like you were so much better?"

Sean's tone of superiority was unmistakable. "Yeah. Did you get the impression something's changed?"

"Well yeah," came Weevil's reply, "it seems both our families are in the domestic staffing industry. That makes us, like, family."

It took every ounce of willpower Logan had not to chuckle. '_Damn,' _he thought, reluctantly impressed. '_That's quite the burn he just threw down.'_

But Weevil wasn't done. The persistent sound of his voice continued on. "I steal cars, you sell drugs. Hey, I can hardly tell where you end and I begin."

'_Holy fuck, he's gotta stop before I end up giving myself away!'_

"I get it," Sean responded with a smarmy confidence, "What can I get you? A little crank? Some blow?"

"Just tell me the name of your supplier," Weevil demanded, clearly all joking around now set aside.

"Yeah, that's not happening," came Sean's stubborn reply.

Weevil persisted, however. "Is it the Fitzpatricks?"

'_God he's good. Or not bad at least. Although he'll never be another Veronica Mars.'_

"The Fitzpatricks." Sean's voice was filled with disbelief and disdain. "They take a blowtorch to you if you're short a dime bag. I'm not that dumb." '_No, I guess you're not, but still...' _ There was a pause in the conversation before Freidrich asked pointedly, "Am I free to go?"

The "have a nice day" from Weevil told Logan that it was over. He stayed silent, however, until his presence was acknowledged.

"You believe him?"

Swinging the stall door open, Logan answered question with question. "Don't you?"

Leaning against the sink, Weevil spoke with conviction, "One of my boys is mixed up with the Fitzpatricks, I know it."

Moving to the sink, Logan wet his hand then ran it through his hair. He looked at Weevil in the mirror and asked, "Has it crossed your mind that maybe the one that's mixed up with the Fitzpatricks is the one that's already dead?"

This time it was Weevil's turn to respond with a question, "You remember when Ciaran and Cormac Fitzpatrick still went to school here? Back when we were freshmen?"

"They were like 7th year seniors," Logan recalled, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"The only reason they stuck around was to keep the high school drug trade going," Weevil explained, "Soon as the school got smart and expelled them, my predecessor - "

Logan interrupted, proving he was keeping up with the conversation even if he didn't understand it, "Reaper Gus."

"Yes. The Reaper," Weevil nodded approvingly before he continued, "He decides to expand our business. A couple months later, he disappears like Jimmy Hoffa. No one's seen him since."

There was a pause while he allowed Logan to absorb that information.

Then Weevil continued, finally sounding like he was about to make his point, "You know why The Reaper was called that?"

"He lost a bet?" Logan asked, clearly not into this guessing game.

"His name," Weevil stated pointedly, "Gustavio Toombs. He was Felix's big brother. So no, Felix wasn't working with the Fitzpatricks. No way in hell."

Weevil walked out without another word, but Logan remained at the sink, considering what he'd just learned. '_Yeah, I see his point. But still...if there's anything the shitstorm of my life has taught me, it's never to trust what you believe till you have proof.'_

Back in the suite again, Logan played a golf video game while he met with Weevil.

"Drugs. Murder. Frame-ups. St. Mary's Church. Why didn't we think of that sooner?" Logan's tone dripped with bitter sarcasm.

"Seriously, man," Weevil insisted, "it's gotta be it."

"Convinced of this why?" Logan asked doubtfully, glancing up at the biker from the corner of his eye.

"You met the Fitzpatrick family?" Weevil asked.

Images of Veronica pinned down on a pool table flashed through Logan's head. His jaw clenched but he forced himself to relax and answer in the manner expected of him. "I found them scrappy but lovable."

Apparently choosing to ignore Logan's sardonic mood, Weevil continued on. "So outta 13 brothers and cousins, you got 12 hoods and a priest, Father Patrick. So, I was thinkin' - "

Interrupting Weevil's thought process, Logan said, "Aw, damn," when he missed an easy putt.

When he pulled the plug on the playstation, it was obvious that Weevil was fed up, but Logan was irritated and couldn't have cared less. "WHAT?" he demanded like a petulant child, "You were thinking? You want me to alert the media?" He knew it wasn't fair, that Weevil was actually, in this instance, on his side and trying to help, but Logan didn't care. He was just sick of all this bullshit.

"This concerns you, too, jailbird. You think I like sneaking over here like this? Focus, man," Weevil chided him irritably.

Refusing to give in easily or admit that he should have been paying more attention, Logan glared at Weevil and said in an annoyed tone, "Ok, I'm focused. Go ahead. Think."

Weevil ignored Logan's deliberate attempts to egg him on and continued. "K, we've got the Fitzpatrick priest running the show in the church where all the PCHers go, right?"

Logan couldn't resist snarking or playing devil's advocate, "That's decent thinking for a novice. But aren't priests supposed to be good and stuff?"

"Before he took his orders, Patrick Fitzpatrick was up to his eyeballs in the family business," Weevil explained, not to be deterred, "He even did six months for assault for beating up some stool pigeon."

Thoughtful but also doubtful, Logan asked, "Yeah, but at church? Where are you gonna pass packages of drugs and money?"

"You ever been to a Catholic church?" Weevil asked pointedly, already knowing the answer.

"When do you think I've ever been to a church of any variety? Thanks to dear old dad, we couldn't even manage it for my mom's funeral," Logan responded bitterly.

A brief look of understanding crossed Weevil's features but it quickly passed. Logan would never want or accept his pity. Instead, he explained, "There's mass and there's confession. Lots of people around during mass, but during confession, it's just you an' the priest hidden away in a booth with a screen between you an' him. Ain't nobody around but you, the priest, and God himself, maybe the virgin Mary."

Logan was silent a few moments, then looked over at Weevil doubtfully, "You really think they'd use a confessional to further their drug trade?"

Weevil answered Logan's question with a question of his own. "Would you really put any damn thing past a fucking Fitzpatrick?"

"Ok," Logan said slowly, giving Weevil a quizzical look, "So how do you propose we prove your theory?"

Without hesitation, Weevil responded, "I propose we ask V to bug the confessional, get video feed, sound too if we can, then you take your proof to your lawyer and I take the information to my gang. We both get what we want."

Frowning, Logan leaned back against the couch. "Can't we get what we need without involving Veronica?"

"What, you two having a fight? Again?" Weevil mocked with narrowed eyes.

Logan rolled his eyes, "You know, forget it. Ask away. Just make sure she knows this favor thing was your idea, not mine."

"Hey, I got no problem talkin' to Blondie on my own. You don't gotta be there at all," Weevil scoffed.

Regardless of his mixed emotions about the matter, Logan knew that if anything went wrong in the request, if she started to falter or waiver or buck against it, he wanted to be there to plead on his own behalf. '_Because, goddammit, whether she likes it or not, she cares. She's not indifferent to me, and if she can help with this, I may find myself a free man yet.' _He would use her. One last time. He wouldn't like it but he'd do it.

The next evening, Logan met Weevil at Java the Hut. They arrived just before her shift began and requested to be seated in the back, then let the hostess know that they specifically wanted Veronica to be their waitress.

When they saw Veronica arrive, Weevil waved her over since it wasn't clear whether she'd received their message. It took her a minute to head toward them. It was one of the longest minutes of Logan's life.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? There's no way that we're placing her in danger?" Logan asked hesitantly, reluctantly.

"She'll be fine," Weevil assured him, "We ain't backin' out now."

She headed their direction and Logan made sure she couldn't see him. He was determined to give Weevil his chance to make this work without him getting involved. He was only there as backup. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Veronica sounded like she was in an exceptionally good mood when Logan heard her ask his cohort, "And how can I help you, sir?"

Without any preamble, Weevil told her, "I need a favor."

"Ahh. A favor," she said in response, the tone of her voice already making the hairs on the back of Logan's neck stand up, "One of our specialties."

Again, Weevil went on, not bothering to sugarcoat anything. "I need you to bug the confessional at St. Mary's church."

Logan could imagine the look on Veronica's face but he kept his head down, his face turned away. He didn't need to see her to know she was astonished.

"Um, I'm sorry. That's not on our menu. Maybe you should try 'you're crazy' down the street."

'_Shit. I knew he'd fuck this up.'_

He sighed, quietly resigned, lowered the menu and said, ""It's not just for him."

She gave him a look of disgust or distaste, he couldn't tell which, and then she began to speak harshly, "Isn't this a very odd coincidence? Or, wait, are you guys like roomies now and he ate your peanut butter and now you're not speaking?"

'_Fuck, Veronica. Don't do this. Not now...although, if you want to play hardball...'_

Logan's jaw flexed and he said stiffly, a knowing look in his eyes, "Funny you should bring up roomies seeing as I just lost one. Don't suppose you could help me find where Duncan disappeared?"

"Ooh, sorry," she responded with feigned sweetness and apology, both of which he was well aware were veiling her venom, "One favor per customer."

"Uh, yeah, could we stay focused here? 'Cause if we're seen together by the wrong people, that would be bad," Weevil's lowered voice took on a sing-songy quality.

All the playfulness evaporated from Veronica as she said pointedly, "So this is sneaking. I've got a pantomime horse disguise you could use. Do either of you have any experience being a horse's ass?"

'_Shit. We're losing her. Weevil's right. This is gonna take focus and maybe even a little contrition.'_

Still, he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice at first. "I'm glad my misfortunes amuse you. Look, that church is the only place where the Fitzpatricks and the PCHers hang together."

Now that Logan had mentioned the Fitzpatricks and PCHers, he knew they had her attention. He sat back and let Weevil take over the explanation.

"And the priest is a Fitzpatrick. It must be where they're getting the drugs to the trader in the PCHers."

"Who is probably the one who killed Felix," Logan added, feeling as though he had to make sure it was spelled out for her. '_Come on, Veronica. I know you know I didn't do this and I know you won't just let me go to prison for life, or worse, face the death penalty, while you stand idly by and watch it happen.'_

Thinking of the death penalty nearly paralyzed him. He both looked and sounded tired as he continued, "Look, Veronica," he paused a moment to rub his hands over his face, letting out a low sigh, "can you just once save my ass without comment?"

Veronica looked toward the stage, either listening to the guy singing karaoke or taking a moment to think. Logan wasn't sure which. Just when he was about to try again, she turned around with a smile and said sternly, "No. Because saving your ass WITH comment...it just works better for me. I will not bug a confessional. Video, maybe, but no sound."

Relieved, Logan looked to Weevil and both nodded. They could work with that.

They agreed that Veronica would text them when she had what they'd asked for. When they got the text, though, Logan had just left the school campus to make his weekly visit to the county jail, a standing appointment that he couldn't miss or be late for. Quickly, he texted back that Veronica should meet Weevil without him, that he'd get the information from Weevil later.

But he never heard from Weevil later. Logan tried to get through to Veronica to see what had happened but she must have been at work because her phone was off. He left her a brief message and had a few drinks while wondering what he should do.

'_I'll have to wait till school tomorrow, then I'll corner him, see what the hell is going on.'_

With that decided he went to bed, but he tossed and turned all night. Every time he was nearly asleep, he'd think again how much of a mistake it had been to trust Weevil. Why the hell had he let himself get sucked in by that spic?

The next day proved his worst fears had come true. Weevil managed to avoid him all day. The couple of times that Logan caught a glimpse of him, he noted that Weevil definitely looked worse for wear but he was determined that wouldn't stop him from finding out what the fuck had happened.

It wasn't until the last period of the day that he was finally able to make that happen. Logan tracked Weevil down in his shop class and paid a freshman with a hall pass to take a note to the shop teacher asking to dismiss the biker early. As soon as Weevil walked out the door and around the corner, Logan shoved him into an empty classroom and slammed the door shut.

"Kinky, but not my style," Weevil smirked, catching his balance as he started to head for the door that Logan was blocking, "Now get outta my way before I kick your teeth in."

Logan looked him over and shook his head, "Them's fightin' words, Weevs, and you don't exactly look like you're up for a fight today. What happened? Anything to do with our information?"

"It's MY information since I was the one there to get it," Weevil countered, "But no, this ain't got nothin' to do with that. An' if it ain't got nothin' to do with you, it ain't none o' your business."

"Not interested, anyway, if it has nothing to do with me," Logan shrugged carelessly before impatiently asking, "So, why aren't you telling me about what IS my business?"

Weevil's eyes flashed, his jaw flexed, "Leave it alone. I'm handling it."

"Yeah," Logan scoffed, "You're handling it so well you got your ass handed to you."

"I said this don't have nothin' to do with that, man!" Weevil responded angrily.

"And I don't believe you, Paco," Logan replied evenly, "Come on, what gives?"

Shaking his head stubbornly, Weevil said, "Get Blondie to tell ya. Us? Our partnership? Is over." With that, he shoved past Logan and out the door.

After school, Dick came by with some gossip that once again turned Logan's world on its head. Dick had seen Weevil getting off the school bus that morning so he'd done some checking around. It seemed that apparently the PCHers had ousted their leader.

Logan immediately went to Veronica and demanded to know what she had told Weevil, what she had found on the video of the confessional.

She told him, reluctantly, but quickly added, "But Logan, there was nothing on that tape that could help you. Not really. I mean, connecting Thumper to the Fitzpatricks and the drug trade has nothing to do with Felix. Before the information I found could possibly help you, you'd need to have some idea what motive the Fitzpatricks would have for wanting Felix dead. We don't know that. We may never know."

A pained but stubborn expression crossed Logan's features as he said with determination, "I'll bet Weevil knows and I'll bet I can make him talk, too."

"Logan, don't," Veronica ordered, the slightest hint of the concern she was masking was audible in her voice. "Please. You won't get anywhere with him and you'll just wind up in more trouble than you're already in."

"What do you suggest, then?" Logan asked harshly, his eyes hard as he stared her down.

Veronica worried her lower lip, a sure sign that she was struggling to hide her emotions. "Just...I don't know...wait and see what Cliff is able to pull off to help you. He's your best hope now."

An array of emotions struggled within Logan. He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her that he didn't trust Cliff as much as he trusted her, or himself. He wanted to tell her that his gut was telling him that anything Cliff could do would be too little, too late. But he didn't.

Instead, he slowly nodded, holding her gaze, and let her think he'd relented. "Ok. I'll leave it alone. For now. But if Cliff can't pull a miracle out of his ass, I'm counting on you to come visit me in prison. Can't forego the conjugals." He distracted her with his words and a suggestive bob of his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes, glared at him, and smacked him on the shoulder. "Jackass."

He grinned, pretended to tip an invisible hat to her, and turned to walk away. As soon as he was sure that she couldn't see him, his jovial and teasing attitude vanished. She wouldn't be helping him with whatever crazy idea he came up with next to keep his ass out of prison. Nobody would. From here on out, he knew he was on his own.


	18. Chapter 18

He had to find a way to get the plastic surgeon to recant. But how? He grabbed the file on the doctor that Veronica had given him and went through it with a fine tooth comb.

'_There.' _His finger landed on the personal data page. The good Dr. Griffith had a daughter. A fifteen-year-old daughter to be exact. '_I wonder if she goes to Neptune...' _

If he was going to save himself, he knew that it would have to be with his own charm, wit, intelligence, money, or some combination of the above.

He thought again about the daughter, and a plan began to formulate in his mind. A younger, likely impressionable girl. How could she resist if a senior, the purported '_King of the 09ers' _showed an interest in her? He'd charm her, endear himself to her, and use her along with his own reputation as a womanizer to make her daddy dearest so nervous that he'd regret ever agreeing to give false testimony against Logan Echolls.

Logan grabbed his laptop and pulled up a google search. He typed in '_Hannah Griffith + Dr. Tom Griffith'_ and watched as the results popped up. After opening several documents, none of which had any pictures attached or further relevant details, he closed the computer and stood, leaning against the counter by the sink, desperately trying to figure out a way to find this girl.

'_Now...how do I find her? Does she go to Neptune or some stupid-ass preppy private school?' _

Racking his brain for ideas, he momentarily bemoaned the fact that he didn't know anyone who worked as an office aide and could get their hands on her file for him, if one existed.

Sitting bolt upright from where he'd been slouched on the couch, he realized suddenly that a quick glance through last year's yearbook could easily tell him whether or not there was a Hannah Griffith in attendance at Neptune High. Sure, most of the yearbook was taken up by senior profiles, clubs and sports, but they always had a small section for the underclassmen.

Running a hand through his hair, then over his face before he pinched the bridge of his nose, he tried to think of how he could find out, how he could get his hands on last year's yearbook, without alerting anyone to what he was doing. If only he hadn't lost his own copy when his house was burnt to the ground. At least then he wouldn't have to waste time wondering if school would be a plausible (and extremely convenient) location to make his move.

A thought occurred to him and a pleased grin spread across his face. '_The library.' _The school library always kept a copy of each year's yearbook for posterity's sake. He'd have to go at a time that nobody he knew would see him. But that wouldn't be a problem. He could definitely make that happen.

During study hall the next day, Logan found his opportunity to check out the yearbook archives in the library. It didn't take him long to locate the edition he needed and he immediately flipped through to last year's freshman class, scanning the '_G'_s for '_Griffith'. _What he found there was a black and white picture of a willowy blonde in one of the preppiest outfits he'd ever seen.

Relieved that he wouldn't have to manufacture some way to meet her in a completely unknown environment, he took a moment to study her, memorize her features as best he could.

'_Good a mark as any...' _he thought unrepentantly as he flipped to the back to see if she'd been in any sports or clubs the year before. '_She looks like a joiner. Here's hoping.'_

He made it through basketball, baseball, pep squad, band, and was about to give up when he came to track and field. '_Bingo.' _Now he just had to figure out how to use the information he'd found to his advantage.

In FBLA that week, he found his opportunity. Mr. Pope reminded them all of the upcoming winter carnival and asked for volunteers to run the slushie booth as their contribution to help finance the senior trip.

Logan didn't volunteer. He was too busy plotting and scheming. If FBLA was running a booth, then track and field likely would be, too. If little miss Hannah Griffith was as much of a joiner as Logan was hoping she was, she'd probably be at the carnival and possibly would even be taking her turn manning whatever booth her beloved sport put together.

'_Oh, yeah, this is going to work perfectly!_ _Maybe something is finally gonna go right for me!'_

As the morning of the carnival dawned, Logan started to have second thoughts about implementing his plan. His hesitation had nothing to do with the unknown entity of Hannah Griffith or how what he was about to do might impact her or her probably perfect world. No. Instead, every doubt in his mind revolved around the pesky blonde who still owned his heart.

'_What would Veronica think if she knew what I was doing? Would she get it? Would she understand that I'm only trying to save my own skin? Or would she hate me for toying with this girl's emotions?'_

Those nagging questions were what drove him to find her at the FBLA booth the Saturday of the winter carnival. He watched her, unnoticed, from a short distance away. She appeared distracted by the crowd at the pep squad pie booth at first and he thought he might just get by without feeling the need to approach her.

When she called out, though, in a loud voice, trying to gain customers, he knew he couldn't resist responding to her appeal.

"Slushies!" Veronica called out. "Get your ice cold, frozen...sugar water…"

Moving in to lean against the slushie machine, Logan couldn't keep the adoration out of his eyes as he said with a snarky smile, "You had me at ice cold."

As she turned toward him, he schooled his features so he wouldn't give himself away and watched the look of both resignation and delight that crossed her features when she saw him.

"What's your poison?" Veronica asked, her expression clearly saying 'game on.'

The banter and one upmanship between them had always been one of Logan's favorite things. Today, though, he outdid even himself when he replied without missing a single beat.

"Uhh, emotionally unavailable women."

'_Ain't that the fucking truth. Why am I even here?'_

Not taking him seriously, Veronica drummed her hands on the counter in front of her as if she were highlighting his punchline.

Coming around to stand in front of the booth, Logan looked up at the board that listed the available flavors.

"Let's see. Umm...I want something that suits my mood," he declared as he scanned the possibilities.

This time it was Veronica's turn to respond snarkily, "Ohh, I'm sorry. We're all out of liquid evil."

Logan gave the ghost of a smile and a slight nod, acknowledging her quip before saying, "I'll take two of whatever will turn my tongue blue."

Turning to get his slushies, Veronica asked casually with what Logan thought might be a hint of curiosity in her voice, "Hot date?"

He couldn't resist baiting her. "Rain check?" he asked with a smug grin.

She turned and gave him a pointed stare, one that made his heart leap as he thought, '_Holy shit! She's annoyed that I might be here on a date! She's fucking jealous!'_

That thought alone led him to shrug and tell her an acceptable lie. "Night with the fellas. You know how it is." Then, before she could ask any more probing questions, he turned toward the pep squad booth and changed the subject. "Boy, people really love pep squad pie."

"It's genius," Veronica said as he pulled out his wallet to pay her, "Madison's dad gives her $40 to buy a pie from some chi-chi bakery and then drops 3 bills to buy it back in front of a live studio audience. He loves her."

"Oh, the rich," Logan said as he handed her his money, "How they mock you."

She stared at the currency in her hand and asked in a mock disbelieving tone, "There's a $50 bill?"

Logan deadpanned, uncomfortable as he remembered that there was another girl he needed to be flirting with rather than Veronica. "I have them made special."

Veronica seemed to realize that his mood had begun to change. She quickly counted his change and handed it to him, looking like she expected him to be ready to leave.

As he put it in his wallet, he couldn't resist one more little dig as he said, "Ah the hoi polloi. They don't know what they want until they have it."

He watched as she ducked her head and tried to hide a small smile, then he gave her a nod and wandered off, wishing he could stay but knowing that he couldn't.

After spending some time with Dick and learning from him that the track and field team was running the leapfrog booth, Logan gave himself a pep talk and prepped himself to be the nicest, wittiest, most charming son of a bitch that he could be when he met Hannah. His life was depending on it.

Taking several deep breaths to calm his nerves and strengthen his resolve, he put every ounce of his legendary charisma into his performance as he stepped up to the game booth where several underclassmen girls were huddled together gossiping.

A blonde that he almost instantly recognized as his target turned away from her friends as he approached, ready to do her duty and assist him.

"So, I'm not actually leaping frogs myself?" he bantered with a small smile, "I'll try anything once."

The lithe girl before him met his smile with what appeared to be a challenging smile of her own but didn't say a word.

'_She's playing along. Nice! This might actually end up being more enjoyable than I thought.'_

"Except that," he teased, "You cheeky little…" He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he gave Hannah some money and put a frog on the catapult in front of him.

Immediately, the younger girl showed that she wasn't just a pretty face when she said, "Uhh, you don't take physics, do you?"

An image of that well-remembered scene just inside the door to the girl's bathroom flashed instantly in his mind's eye. He heard Veronica's teasing voice echoing her lesson about force equalling mass times acceleration...and pushed it out of his mind even as he said with a lightness that disguised the significance of his words, "I have a tattoo of Newton's second law right on my heart."

Lazily, he let the rubber end of the hammer fall on its target and watched the frog flop off the catapult, nowhere near the lily pad that was supposed to be the goal.

Smiling at her, not bothered in the slightest by the frog's clear miss, he pulled at the neckline of his sweater and asked, "Wanna see?"

His heart ached even as he flirted with the clearly suggestible girl but he forced himself to swallow his feelings and focus on the task at hand. '_She's gotta buy this. She's gotta believe that I'm interested. I can't half-ass this or I'm a dead man.'_

Hannah interrupted his thoughts by saying, "You get three tries."

With more affability than he'd ever used when speaking to anyone, Logan said with another smile, "You're so accommodating."

The hammer came down again and this time the frog landed in the water.

Behind Hannah, the other girls were watching now and began to giggle at his display of ineptitude.

Knowing he needed her friends to like him, too, Logan chuckled himself and made a request of them that clearly had more than one meaning. "How about a little support, ladies?"

Playing along, the other girls began to clap and cheer. Again, the hammer came down and again he missed.

Hannah laughed and Logan scoffed, clearly challenging her, "And I suppose you're fantastic at this."

To his delight, her friends started egging her on, telling her to 'show him' so Hannah shrugged before coming around to the other side of the booth where she playfully grabbed Logan's shoulders and moved him out of her way, saying primly, "Excuse me."

'_Damn. She almost reminds me of Veronica before...before Lilly died...before I made her life a living hell...before...stop, focus, Logan. You have bigger fish to fry right now.'_

While he'd been distracted, Hannah had gotten her frog prepared on the catapult. She looked to her friends and mimicked what he had said with barely concealed glee, "Ladies, a little support."

Her friends cheered again and she struck the hammer down on its target. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't see Logan come close. Just when the hammer fell, he pulled his hand away and acted as if she'd hit it.

Gasping and covering her mouth with her hand, Hannah said contritely, "Oh! I'm so sorry!" while trying to move closer to see the damage she'd done for herself.

Logan turned back to her triumphantly, hand open and clearly not injured. "Oh, I can't believe you fell for that!"

His words were immediately followed by an unwanted thought of another girl with long blonde hair from long ago, a girl who no longer existed except in his memories. '_So like Ronnie. Sweet and gullible but smart and feisty.' _

Pushing his thoughts away again, Logan said with a cocky confidence, "I think I should get a prize just for being so entertaining."

Hannah responded unshakably, "Yeah well, I wasn't all that entertained." With a stubbornness that Logan found attractive, she added, "If you want a prize, frog on a lily pad."

This time, he easily landed the frog on its mark and gave Hannah a smug smile and small bow while she chuckled, clearly impressed.

Looking over the prizes, Logan said, "I'd like the pink bunny, please."

When she handed it to him, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Hannah," came the quick response, everything about her saying that she was open and ready for him to make his move.

Reeling her in, he looked down at the stuffed animal and said shyly, "I'm naming my bunny after you, Hannah."

The girl grinned, clearly charmed.

"Actually," he said as he handed the bunny back across the counter to her, "Name it Logan, or break my heart."

He held his breath while he watched her react. When he saw the smitten look on her face, he thought, '_Bingo. Now it's time to give her some room, let her talk to her friends. I can find her again later when she's done volunteering.'_

Slowly, he backed away from the booth, holding her gaze, then turned away, hearing in his head, '_And scene.'_


	19. Chapter 19

She wasn't what he had expected. He had expected the typical spoiled, self-involved 09er brat who was always looking to one up her peers by dating someone on a higher rung of the social ladder, who participated in school activities for the prestige rather than school spirit or an actual desire to be involved. In short, he had expected another Madison Sinclair, just younger.

What Logan had not expected was to find that sophomore athlete, Hannah Griffith, was actually a sweet, smart, snappy girl who, under other circumstances, would actually be someone he might like to hang out with, become friends with. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Veronica 1.0, the long-haired version who existed before Lilly had died and he had declared war on her. Before she'd been raped.

Back then, even when Duncan and Lilly weren't around, he and Veronica had always had a teasing, bantering, playful rapport. It hadn't been often that they'd been alone together but the times that they were had become special memories etched in his brain, too precious to ever let go of. They reminded him of a simpler time, when the only thing he had to worry about was staying out of the house and away from his dad as much as possible.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Logan focused on what he planned to do next, which was find Miss Hannah Griffith and charm the socks off her. Now that he'd had a chance to meet her and assess the situation, he thought he had a pretty good handle on what his approach should be: playful, bantering, and just the slightest bit vulnerable. She seemed the type that would go for a misunderstood bad boy and that was definitely a role he could play to the hilt.

He found her by the cotton candy booth, paying no particular attention to anything around her while she paid for her blue, fluffy, gooey, goodness. Logan sidled up beside her and snatched some of the candy with a grin. '_If she really is anything like Veronica used to be - hell, still is about food! - then this may result in World War III.'_

He wasn't wrong.

Almost immediately, Hannah whirled around and said, "Hey!" in the most adorably accusatory manner he could have imagined.

"Hey," he said back with a smirk before feigning an apology. "I'm sorry, did you want that?"

Hannah rolled her eyes at him and said sarcastically, "No, I bought it for you."

Pretending she'd actually meant what she said, Logan returned playfully, "Aw! You are sweet!" Then, before he went too far or she could decide that he was a total asshole, he changed the subject completely. "So, I couldn't help but notice that you are separated from the herd. I'm concerned. You know, predators and all that."

Giving him a sidelong glance, Hannah retorted proudly, "Well, I can take care of myself."

'_I'll bet you can. You are reminding me more and more of Veronica all the time. Spunky little spitfire...'_

Out loud he said, "Well that's a shame."

A moment later, Logan took another pinch of her cotton candy which was met with a protest of, "Dude!" that made him to laugh.

'_THAT is definitely NOT a Veronica thing.'_

"Ok, that sounds so unnatural coming from you," he said with some surprise, still chuckling at the way the word had become elongated on her tongue.

"I say dude all the time," Hannah responded haughtily.

Teasing again, Logan said firmly, "Nope. I don't buy it." Changing tacks again, he said, "You know, you're like the hot daughter of a king that he marries off to get Denmark or something."

'_Every girl likes a roundabout compliment, right? Damn, I'm rusty with the Echolls charm. Got used to not needing it. Girls throwing themselves at me because of dear ol' dad, even while I insult them to their faces. This'll be good for me. Brush up on my skills.'_

"You mean a princess," Hannah said with a knowing smile that said she knew exactly what he was trying to do and it was working. She was dazzled by the senior bad boy who seemed to be into her.

Doing his best to keep up the charade, which wasn't nearly as difficult as he'd expected it to be, he teased, "You know I'm only ever going to call you princess now."

"No you're not," Hannah responded in disbelief, giving him what could almost pass as a stern look.

The opportunity was too enticing to pass up. He grinned at her and said, "Princess. I am."

Hannah smiled and laughed at him in such a carefree way that Logan only wished he could be as unfettered as she seemed to be.

Logan needed to clear his mind, so he changed the subject. "My friend Dick's working the slushie booth. We should go pay him a visit. He's all about the royals."

Sobering, Hannah said, "I can't. I'm here with my friends."

Not to be put off so easily, Logan responded coaxingly, "So? Go tell 'em you wanna come play with me for a little while."

"What makes you think I want to?" Hannah asked with a sassy tilt of her blonde head that seriously reminded him of another blonde he was desperately trying not to think of at that moment.

With a cocky smirk, Logan snarked back, "What makes you think it's a good idea to pretend you don't?"

Hannah laughed again and turned to jog lightly over to her friends.

Logan's smile was almost triumphant as he watched her giggling and looking back at him as she spoke to the other girls. He could almost hear the giddy gossip in his head.

'_Now...how do I make sure that her dad finds out about her sudden interest in the person he's accused of murder? She's cute and sweet and all but I don't want to have to keep up the act too long or it might come back to bite me in the ass.'_

Over the course of the afternoon, Logan and Hannah made their way around the entire carnival. They talked and laughed and joked and teased each other in a way that Logan hadn't done with anyone in what seemed like forever. By the time they'd made it to the bounce house and taken a seat against the large round pole in the center, Logan was shocked to find that he was actually enjoying himself.

'_Shit. I actually like her. I'd better figure out a way to get down to business, get what I need, and get out ASAP. Last thing I need is to feel guilty for breaking a sweet, innocent girl's heart!'_

"Look, just so you know, I take all my dates here. I don't want you to think you're special or anything," he said, realizing that the last part was a reminder for himself just as much as it was a statement to her. She was special. And he probably shouldn't be messing with her. But dammit, he had no choice. He'd exhausted all his other options. It was this or go to jail for the rest of his life. Or worse.

His thoughts were interrupted when Hannah said, "Uh, this isn't a date."

Her words amused Logan and he found himself snarking back lightly, "Um, I bought you a drink. I won you a stuffed animal. Check your dictionary, princess."

Hannah laughed before she confessed, "I haven't had a date yet. I'm kind of holding out for

something special."

'_Something special?! WHOA! I haven't heard a statement like that from anyone since...' _

He refused to finish the thought. Instead, he said with genuine amazement, "Wow, you are a princess."

When Hannah just laughed again, Logan took the opportunity to redirect her to a subject he was seriously anxious to hear about. "So, from what I hear, most princesses are daddy's girls. Are you a daddy's girl?"

She sobered immediately and looked a bit sad and wistful when she answered, "I used to be. Not so much anymore although sometimes daddy still likes to pretend. I guess I do, too."

Logan hadn't anticipated the heaviness that would descend on the conversation when he brought up her father, but before he could figure out what to say next, Hannah had changed the subject on her own.

Looking over at him with a resigned little half smile, she said, "He's picking me up here tonight, you know. If you walk me out to the parking lot, you could meet him. If you want."

Something about the look on her face brought out Logan's tender side so it was with a soft smile that his fingertips gently brushed the side of her face as he said, "I want."

'_Shit shit shit. Definitely crossing a line here. I like her. She likes me. But I can't back out. I have to make this work. I have to follow my plan. FUCK. She is so going to hate me after this!' _

Knowing that he had to move things along and realizing he was walking a tightrope that would likely lead to destruction for one or both of them, Logan added, "I also want a date. A '_real'_ date. What do you think of that?"

A small, soft smile lit Hannah's features. She tapped his nose lightly, playfully as she said, "I want."

It wasn't long before they were strolling toward the parking lot together, walking close enough to bump shoulders regularly along the way.

Feeling less alone and more content than he had in a long time, Logan teased her, saying, "Would you stop trying to hold my hand? Save it for the date, will ya."

Hannah laughed before sobering as she stopped and turned to him. "My ride's picking me up here."

"So I guess I'll see you Saturday," Logan said, confirming their date, not wanting to leave things ambiguous between them when so much was at stake.

She nodded happily and he smiled at her.

"I'll call you," Logan added as she started to walk away.

On impulse, he pulled her back and kissed her. He wasn't sure if it was something he really wanted to do or part of the act. The lines were quickly becoming blurred. But he recovered rapidly when he saw the stunned look on Hannah's face.

"Just in case you don't kiss on a first date," he explained.

A smile filled with awe and humor lit her face and she leaned in to kiss him again.

'_Maybe if I'm lucky, she'll still be kissing me when her dad shows up. Bet that would both piss him the hell off and scare the shit out of him.'_

When a car pulled up and honked, he glanced over and saw through the windshield that it was none other than Dr. Tom Griffith himself.

'_Perfect. Show time, motherfucker.'_

As she walked toward the car, he hurried after her, reaching to open the door for her, pouring on the Echolls charm.

"Allow me," he said with a smile.

Returning the smile, she got in the passenger's seat and said, "Hey, Daddy."

Slowly, intentionally, Logan crouched down to make sure that the asshole plastic surgeon would have no problem seeing who his daughter had been cavorting with. He smiled gleefully at him, waved his fingers in the most silently threatening yet pleasant way possible. When he was sure that his point had been made, he rose and walked away.

At school the following week, Logan couldn't wait to find out what Hannah's dad had thought of his performance. He convinced her to sneak around with him and not let anyone know what was going on between them. As he spun his story for her, explaining that he just wanted it to be the two of them for a while, he thought of the time when it was Veronica he had been sneaking around with, and how the sneaking had been at her request. He hoped the reasons she'd given him then worked for him now.

They did. He was smugly satisfied when he found himself making out with Hannah beside the vending machines later, pausing to pretend that they were just talking any time another student came by.

"Strawberry soda," Logan said with a serious nod and a look that told the guy at the drink machine to scram as soon as humanly possible, "Fine choice."

The boy heard the unspoken message and left. As soon as he did, Logan moved back to Hannah, smiling and leaning attentively toward her.

"Where were we?" he asked as she looked up at him adoringly.

'_She has no clue who I really am, that I'm a fucking predator and she should run for her life right now.'_

"Oh yes," he said, even as his inner monologue was still running its course, "I remember."

His lips met hers and he kissed her leisurely. There was no rush, no passion, no real emotion to it. He liked kissing and she wasn't bad at it. Definitely inexperienced but not horrible. Her instincts were good. All this combined to make it very easy for his mind to drift toward his plan, trying to plot his next steps as they made out.

When they separated, her words stunned him and made his blood run ice cold.

"Are you sure you don't want to take this somewhere more private, like, the trunk of your car?"

Two things happened then. Logan inwardly began to panic as images of intense backseat makeouts with Veronica shot uninvited across the movie screen of his mind. He couldn't even begin to imagine allowing himself to be in that type of situation with the innocent girl by his side. He also realized in that moment that he, Logan Echolls, had limits to how far he was willing to go to save his own ass.

Awkwardly, he mumbled while looking down at his feet, "It's called a stolen moment because we're sneaky about it."

As cute and teasing as Hannah's next words were, they hit far too close to home and stung more than Logan had thought possible.

"Ever consider that maybe you're not as notorious as you think you are?" she asked.

'_Fuck. If you only knew.'_

Unable to hide his discomfort or the guilt he suddenly felt at how he was using her, Logan refused to meet her gaze as he said, "Come on, admit it, your dad went off on you for getting cuddly with me at the carnival. Right?"

'_Please say yes. Please say yes. This has to work. I can't hurt her for nothing and I can't keep this up forever.'_

"My dad didn't say a thing," Hannah scoffed.

'_Shit. Not good. I'm gonna have to find a way to move things along. This is getting too complicated as it is. Focus, Logan. Do whatever it takes to get her dad to recant and get out. GET. OUT.'_

He had to think fast to come up with the right thing to say, something that would inevitably lead towards what he ultimately needed.

Shrugging, he kissed her cheek and temple before saying, "Maybe it's just, I really wanna be alone with you."

'_That should do it. Right? Right?'_

Her responding smile told him he was on the right track. And when she said, "So when do you wanna be alone with me again?" he knew that he was close. If he could just keep from making any wrong moves, taking any missteps, he'd have this thing nailed.

"I don't know," he said casually, "Saturday?"

"I'm staying at my dad's this weekend," she responded suggestively, "You can come by and watch a movie if you want."

'_Bingo. Rub the fact that the supposed murderer is cozying up to his daughter in his face, maybe make it look like we're on the verge of having sex or something, and I should have him right where I want him. If he loves his daughter at all, he'll recant in a heartbeat rather than let her keep me around.'_

He tried to keep his expression neutral as he replied softly, "I want."


End file.
